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LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California. 

GIFT   OF 

Mrs.  SARAH  P.  WALSWORTH. 

Received  October,  18Q4. 
^Accessions  No. $Y/0$-      Class  No, 


LESSONS 


THE  GREAT   BIOGRAPHY. 


LESSONS 


FROM 


THE  GREAT  BIOGRAPHY. 


% 


BY 


JAMES  HAMILTON,  D.D.,  F.L.S., 

OP    "MPS    IN    EAENE8T,"    "MOUNT    OP    OLIVES,"    "  HAPPY    HOME," 
"BOYAI.    PBEACHEB,"    ETC. 


Of  TH1 

uirrvBEsiTr: 
■c4Si5ti& 

NEW 
ROBERT  GARTER  &  BROTHERS, 

No.    B80   BROADWAY. 
1867. 


rgio* 


PREFACE. 


At  one  time  it  was  the  purpose  of  the  writer  to 
connect  together  the  leading  incidents  recorded  by 
the  four  Evangelists,  translating  them,  as  it  were, 
into  modern  language,  and  supplying  a  few  of  those 
historical  and  topographical  details  for  which  we  are 
indebted  to  recent  research.  If  executed  with  reve- 
rence and  judgment,  the  author  believes  that  such 
Memoirs  of  the  Saviour's  Ministry  would  be  to  many 
a  welcome  and  useful  work.  For  the  present,  how- 
ever, he  is  deterred  from  an  attempt  which,  like  every 
labour  of  love,  craves  a  large  amount  of  leisure. 
But  having  given  to  his  own  congregation  a  few 
specimens  of  the  Gospel  Story  thus  rendered,  he  now 
ventures   to    publish    them,   retaining  the   practical 


VI  PREFACE. 

reflections  with  which  they  were  accompanied,  and 
in  the  hope  that  snch  friends  as  are  kind  enough  to 
look  into  the  volume  will  excuse  its  fragmentary- 
character,  its  important  omissions,  and  its  occasional 
disregard  of  chronological  sequence. 

London,  May  1, 1857. 


CONTENTS. 


(Sarin  Jitciumte. 


L    PRE-EXISTENCE,       ....  3 

H.    APPEARANCES  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT,                 .  20 

III.  THE  ADVENT,            ....  32 

IV.  BETHLEHEM,  AND  THE  FIRST  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM,  49 
V.    THE  WILDERNESS,                     ...  67 


IS&raclta. 


L    CANA  !   THE  WEDDING  FEAST,            .                 .  95 

IL    BETHESDA  '.    A  REMARKABLE  RECOVERY,        .  109 

III.  NAIN  :   THE  INTERRUPTED  FUNERAL,                .  120 

IV.  GADARA  :    THE  DEMONS  EXPELLED,                    .  134 
V.    THE  DESERT  NEAR  BETHSAIDA  :    THE  MULTITUDE 

FED,  .  .  .146 

TL   THE  8EA   ">F  GALILEE  :    THE  TEMPEST  STILLED,  154 

VIL    THE  FAME  OF  JESUS  :    SUCCESSFUL  INTERCESSION,  108 


CONTENTS. 


<§x8toutm, 


PAGE 


L  Messiah's  manifesto,     the  kingdom,      .  187 

II.  a  saviour's  farewell,     the  father's  house,   200 


Jfnterfefos, 


L    A  NOCTURNAL  VISITOR,        .                  .  ,  225 

II.    THE  BANQUET-HALL,             .                  .  .  239 

III.  A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL,  250 

IV.  ANOTHER    YOUNG    MAN    WHO    LEFT  ALL,    AND 

FOLLOWED  JESUS,          .                  .  .  277 

Jfhml  (glimpses. 

THE   RISEN  REDEEMER,             .                 .  .  295 


(ferlg  fttrifottts* 


L    PRE-EXISTENCE. 

IL    APPEARANCES  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT. 
IU.    THE  ADVENT. 
IV.    BETHLEHEM,  AND  THE  FIRST  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM. 

V.   THE  WILDERNESS. 


"Of  THK 


Jre-enslentt, 


In  ordinary  biographies,  a  birth  is  the  beginning. 
It  was  in  the  year  1483  that  the  mind  to  which  we 
owe  the  Reformation  commenced  its  existence ;  for  it 
was  then  that  Martin  Luther  was  born.  It  was  in 
London  that  the  career  began  to  which  England  is 
indebted  for  its  great  epic  poem,  and  that  other  from 
which  science  received  its  mightiest  modern  impulse  ; 
for  it  was  there  that  Milton  and  Bacon  first  saw  the 
light  of  life.  Having  told  us  this,  the  biographer  feels 
that  ne  has  begun  at  the  beginning ;  and  with  this 
statement  coincides  the  consciousness  of  the  indi- 
vidual himself.  For,  whatever  the  old  philosophy 
may  have  dreamed  about  the  pre-existence  of  spirit 
and  the  transmigration  of  souls,  no  man  could  ever 
seriously  say  that  he  had  led  another  life  before  he 
was  born.  No  man  could  ever  tell  incidents  and 
experiences  which  had  occurred  to  him  in  a  state  of 
existence  anterior  to  the  present.  With  us,  to  all 
intents,  our  birth  is  our  beginning. 

In  the  whole  history  of  our  species  there  has  been 


4  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

only  one  exception.  That  exception  occurred  in 
the  Holy  Land  eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  There 
was  a  Prophet  in  Galilee  remarkable  for  the  profu- 
sion and  splendour  of  His  miracles,  and  yet  more 
remarkable  for  the  beautiful  innocence  and  majestic 
elevation  of  His  entire  career ;  and  among  the  other 
peculiarities  of  a  character  unique  and  outstanding 
this  was  one :  He  was  constantly  and  familiarly 
speaking  of  a  life  which  He  had  led  elsewhere  ;  and 
though  He  had  been  born  at  Bethlehem  in  the  reign 
of  Augustus,  it  was  evident  that  He  never  regarded 
that  birth  as  His  beginning.  Speaking  always  of 
God  as  His  father,  on  the  eve  of  His  expected  martyr- 
dom He  concluded  a  solemn  address  to  His  chosen 
friends  in  these  unusual  words — "  The  Father  him- 
self loveth  you,  because  ye  have  loved  me,  and  have 
believed  that  I  came  out  from  God.  I  came  from 
the  Father  and  am  come  into  the  world  :  again,  I 
leave  the  world  and  go  to  the  Father."  And  so  far 
back  'did  that  existence  extend  which  He  had  spent 
elsewhere,  that  His  words  once  leading  the  Jews  to 
think  that  He  claimed  an  age  anterior  to  ancient 
Abraham,  He  not  only  allowed  it,  but  in  words  of 
deep  significance  answered,  u  Before  Abraham  was,  I 
AM."  Nay,  so  remote  was  that  anterior  existence  of 
His,  that  He  speaks  of  it  as  oldpr  than  creation  itself; 
and  in  the  freest  and  most  unreserved  forth-pouring 
of  His  soul  which  the  record  has  preserved — in  that 


PRE-EXISTENCE.  5 

prayer  which  wound  up  the  work  given  Him  to  do,  and 
amidst  whose  closing  accents  He  passed  to  the  final 
conflict — in  the  explicitness  of  a  high  conjuncture, 
and  in  the  fervour  of  filial  confidence,  His  language  is 
all  a-glow  with  recollections  of  that  blissful  associa- 
tion with  ilis  Divine  Father  which  He  had  enjoyed 
in  the  dens  of  a  dateless  eternity.  "And  now,  O 
Father,  glorify  thou  me,  with  thine  own  self,  with  the 
glory  which  I  had  with  thee  before  the  world  was. 
Unto  the  men  whom  thou  gavest  me  I  have  given  the 
words  which  thou  gavest  me ;  and  they  have  received 
them,  and  have  known  surely  that  I  came  out  from 
thee,  and  they  have  believed  that  thou  didst  send  me." 
"  Father,  I  will  that  they  also  whom  thou  hast  given 
me,  be  with  me  where  I  am ;  that  they  may  behold 
my  glory  which  thou  hast  given  me:  for  thou  lovedst 
me  before  the  foundation  of  the  world." 

In  harmony  with  which  consciousness  of  His  own 
is  the  style  of  His  inspired  biographers.  True,  they 
relate  His  birth ;  but  with  them  His  birth  is  not  His 
beginning.  It  is  His  arrival  from  another  sphere  ;  it 
is  His  inauguration  in  human  nature.  It  is  an  advent, 
an  incarnation  ;  it  is  not  a  new  being  called  forth 
from  the  regions  of  nonentity.  It  is  our  world 
receiving  a  pre-existent  visitor ;  it  is  our  humanity 
iirining  a  celestial  occupant;  and  when  they 
chronicle  the  fact,  Evangelists  use  language  which  at 
once  lifts  our  eyes  from   the  cradle,  and  sends  our 


6  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

imaginations  backwards  far  beyond  the  reign  of  the 
Caesars.  In  the  prophetic  description  of  His  birth- 
place, Matthew  quotes  the  words  of  Micah,  of  which 
the  full  context  is,  "  But  thou,  Bethlehem  Ephratah, 
though  thou  be  little  among  the  thousands  of  Judah, 
yet  out  of  thee  shall  he  come  forth  unto  me  that  is  to 
be  ruler  in  Israel;  whose  goings  forth  have  been 
from  of  old,  from  everlasting."  And  he  does  not 
scruple  to  apply  to  the  infant  bom  there  the  words 
of  Isaiah,  "  Behold,  a  virgin  shall  bring  forth  a 
son,  and  they  shall  call  his  name  Emmanuel ; 
which  being  interpreted,  is,  God  with  us."  And 
in  his  allusion  to  the  same  great  incident,  John 
tells  us,  "In  the  beginning  was  the  Word, 
and  the  Word  was  God;  and  the  Word  was 
made  flesh." 

As  we  purpose  to  review  some  of  the  incidents  in 
the  earthly  life  of  Jesus  Christ,  it  is  right  at  the  ouf  set 
to  avow  our  belief  that  His  life  on  earth  was  a  mere 
incident  in  an  existence  which  had  no  beginning. 
We  deeply  feel  that  "  great  is  the  mystery  of  godli- 
ness;"  at  the  same  time  we  feel  that  revelation  leaves 
us  no  alternative.  If  we  accept  the  New  Testament  as 
a  truthful  record,  we  must  receive  the  Lord  Jesus  as 
"  God  manifest  in  the  flesh."  The  proofs  of  this  lie 
scattered  over  all  the  Scriptures,  and  they  have  fre^ 
quently  been  collected  and  arranged  with  admirablJB 
distinctness  and  irresistible  cogency.    At  present,  we 


PBE-EXISTENCE.  7 

must  be  content  to  indicate  a  few  of  those  considera- 
tions which,  we  apprehend,  will  be  deemed  by  candid 
minds  conclusive. 

1.  And  our  first  appeal  is  to  Christ's  own  language. 
There  are  some  subjects  to  which  He  seldom  adverted, 
apparently  reserving  it  for  another  teacher  to  unfold 
them.  For  example,  He  seldom  spoke  of  His  office. 
Scarcely  ever  do  we  find  Him  in  words  express  avow- 
ing His  Messiahship ;  and  it  is  only  now  and  then, 
when  the  avowal  was  to  answer  some  important  pur- 
pose, or  when  to  withhold  it  would  have  been  dis- 
ingenuous and  misleading,  that  "  He  confessed  and 
denied  not,"  "  I  am  the  Christ."  For  instance,  when 
the  inquirer  at  Jacob'3  Well,  impressed  with  His  pro- 
phetic insight,  and  just  as  they  were  about  to  be 
interrupted  by  the  return  of  the  disciples  from  the 
village, — when  she  said,  "  When  Messias  cometh,  he 
will  tell  us  all  things,"  at  such  a  moment,  and  after 
such  a  hint,  to  remain  silent  would  have  been  to 
leave  a  soul  in  darkness ;  and  so  Jesus  answered,  "  I 
that  speak  unto  thee  am  he."  In  the  same  way, 
when  Peter  made  his  memorable  acknowledgment — 
"Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God;" 
and  when  the  high  priest,  in  his  judicial  capacity, 
demanded,  "  I  adjure  thee  by  the  living  God,  that 
thou  tell  U3  whether  thou  be  the  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God,"  to  have  kept  silence  would  have  been  to  per- 
plex   His   disciples  and   bewilder  the  world;  and 


8  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

accordingly  He  gave  an  answer  which  left  no  doubt 
as  to  His  Messianic  character. 

And  yet,  although  seldom  in  words  express  claim- 
ing to  be  the  Christ,  He  was  constantly  assuming 
it.  Most  of  the  miracles  He  wrought  pointed 
this  way,  and  were  ever  and  anon  suggesting  to 
spectators  the  question,  "  When  Messias  cometh,  will 
he  do  more  miracles  than  this  mm  doeth  ?  "  and  of 
His  public  sermons,  as  well  as  of  His  confidential 
addresses  to  His  disciples,  the  drift  was  all  in  this 
direction — issuing  invitations  to  the  one,  and  giving 
instructions  as  to  their  future  work  to  the  other,  which, 
in  the  case  of  any  besides  the  promised  Saviour, 
would  have  been  irrelevant  and  meaningless.  And 
as  in  regard  to  His  office,  so  in  regard  to  His  person. 
As  He  seldom  proclaimed  His  errand,  so  He  did  not 
often  enunciate  His  intrinsic  greatness:  but  as  He 
was  content  to  fulfil  His  mission,  so  He  allowed  His 
glory  to  reveal  itself;  and  it  was  only  when  the  inte- 
rests of  truth  and  goodness  called  for  the  confession, 
that  the  language  of  tacit  assumption  was  exchanged 
for  an  articulate  and  audible  avowal.  But  just  as 
before  the  hostile  high  priest  He  confessed  His  office, 
so  before  the  hostile  populace  He  once  and  again  con- 
fessed His  celestial  origin,  "I  and  the  Father  are 
one  ;"  "  Before  Abraham  was,  I  am;"  and  the  Jews, 
who  well  understood  the  language,  took  up  stones 
to  stone  Him  as  a  blasphemer ;    "  because  he  who 


PRE-EXISTENCE.  9 

was  a  man  made  himself  equal  with  God."  And 
just  as  to  Peter  in  the  presence  of  the  twelve,  He  ad- 
mitted His  Messiahship,  so  to  Philip  in  the  presence 
of  the  rest  He  said,  "  He  that  hath  seen  me  hath  seen 
the  Father.  Believest  thou  not  that  I  am  in  the 
Father  and  the  Father  in  me  ?"  And  just  as  to  con- 
firm the  faith  of  the  Samaritan  inquirer,  He  said,  "  I 
that  speak  unto  thee  am  Messias,"  so  when  to  the 
faltering  Thomas  He  gave  the  overwhelming  token 
which  transformed  his  incredulity  into  adoration,  to 
his  exclamation,  "  My  Lord,  and  my  God  ! "  Jesus 
answered,  a  Thomas,  because  thou  hast  seen  thou  hast 
believed,"  and  accepted  the  God-confessing  epithet. 
When  we  advert  to  the  entire  character  of  Jesus — 
when  we  remember  how  He  "emptied  himself  and 
became  of  no  reputation  " — when  we  remember  that  it 
was  His  way  not  so  much  to  lift  up  His  voice  as  to  let 
His  light  shine,  so  that  His  deeds  rather  than  His  words 
bewrayed  His  intrinsic  majesty — when  we  remember 
how  truthful  and  ingenuous,  and  how  jealous  of  God's 
glory  He  ever  was,  these  repeated  avowals  acquire  a 
vastly  greater  significance  ;  and  taken  in  unison  with 
the  entire  style  of  the  Saviour's  deportment,  which 
was  nothing  less  than  a  continuous  response  to  the 
voice  from  the  excellent  glory,  a  This  is  my  beloved 
Son,"  we  are  shut  up  to  the  conclusion  that  in  His 
own  consciousness  Jesus  was  God. 

The  opposite  assumption,  if  fatal  to  the  Saviour's 


10  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

divinity,  would  also  appear  fatal  to  His  simplicity 
and  godly  sincerity.  It  would  imply  that  in  a  season 
the  most  solemn  of  all  His  history,  when  a  disciple 
prayed  his  departing  Master,  "  Shew  us  the  Father," 
instead  of  answering  the  prayer  and  shewing  what 
was  truly  equivalent  to  the  Father,  He  had  appeased 
the  anxiety  of  Philip  with  a  play  of  words  or  a  para- 
dox. It  would  imply  that  "  the  Light  of  the  world  " 
— the  reformer  who  was  so  possessed  with  the  zeal  of 
God's  house  that  He  drove  all  intruders  from  the 
temple  courts — was  so  little  averse  to  usurp  the  Di- 
vine prerogative,  that  when  again  and  again  the  Jews 
understood  Him  as  asserting  His  equality  with  God, 
rather  than  undeceive  them  He  allowed  them  to  take 
up  stones  to  stone  Him.  It  would  imply  that  He  who 
quoted  to  the  tempter  that  Scripture,  "  Thou  shalt 
worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only  shalt  thou 
serve,"  in  accepting  Himself  the  worship  of  Peter  and 
Thomas  and  others,  was  after  all  less  scrupulous  than 
the  angel  who  started  back  from  John's  adoration, 
"  See  thou  do  it  not ;  for  I  also  am  of  thy  fellow-ser- 
vants the  prophets  :  Worship  God." 

2.  The  consciousness  of  the  Saviour  is  amply  borne 
out  by  the  language  of  the  sacred  writers.  "  God 
hath  in  these  last  days  spoken  unto  us  by  his  Son — 
the  brightness  of  his  glory,  and  the  express  image  of 
his  person."  "  Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness : 
God  was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  believed  on  in  the 


PRE-EXISTENCE.  11 

world,  received  up  into  glory."  "  Let  this  mind  be 
in  you,  which  was  also  in  Christ  Jesus :  who,  being 
in  the  form  of  God,  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be 
equal  with  God ;  but  made  himself  of  no  reputation, 
and  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and  was 
made  in  the  likeness  of  men."  "  For  in  him  (Christ) 
dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily." 
11  Whose  are  the  fathers,  and  of  whom,  as  concerning 
the  flesh,  Christ  came,  who  is  over  all,  God  blessed 
for  ever.  Amen."  *  Expressions  like  these,  direct 
and  indirect,  constantly  occurring,  shew  that  to  the 
habitual  thoughts  of  primitive  discipleship,  the  Sa- 
viour was  nothing  less  than  Divine.  Nor  is  it  only 
in  didactic  discourse  that  such  assertions  are  con- 
tinually repeated,  but  the  whole  apostolic  history 
goes  on  the  assumption  of  the  Saviour's  omnipotence 
and  omnipresence;  and  it  is  impossible  to  read  the 
Book  of  Acts  without  perceiving  that  every  disciple 
of  that  early  age  was  in  daily  life,  as  well  as  in 
extreme  conjunctures,  expecting  the  fulfilment  of  his 
Master's  promise — a  promise  which  only  a  Divine 
Person  could  fulfil — "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway, 
even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 

3.  There  are  Scripture  proofs  of  another  class  which 
we  think  carry  with  them  a  peculiar  charm  and  con- 
clusiveness: we  mean  those  passages  in  the  Old 
Testament  which    are   undoubtedly  applied  to   the 

*  Heb.  i.  1,  2;  1  Tim.  iii.  10;  Phil.  ii.  5-7;  Col.  ii.  9;  Rom.  ix.  5. 


12  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

Most  High,  but  which  in  the  New  Testament  are  as 
distinctly  transferred  to  Jesus  Christ.  In  the  forty- 
fifth  Psalm  we  read,  "  Thy  throne,  0  God,  is  for 
ever  and  ever :  the  sceptre  of  thy  kingdom  is  a  right 
sceptre."  But  in  the  first  chapter  of  Hebrews  we  are 
told  that  these  words  are  spoken  by  the  Father  to  the 
Son.  In  the  sixth  chapter  of  Isaiah  we  have  a 
magnificent  description  of  God's  glory,  —  Jehovah 
sitting  on  u  a  throne  high  and  lifted  up,"  and  "  his 
train  filling  the  temple,"  whilst  seraphs  veil  their 
faces  with  their  wings,  and  make  the  temple  vibrate 
-with  their  hymns  of  rapture.  But  in  the  gospel  of 
John  we  are  told  that  the  spectacle  which  was  on 
this  occasion  vouchsafed  to  Isaiah  was  a  vision  of 
Christ's  glory. 

Amongst  geographers  there  have  sometimes  been 
disputes  as  to  the  identity  of  a  river.  They  have 
debated,  for  instance,  whether  the  Quorra  were  the 
same  as  the  Niger;  but  when  a  boat  launched  on  the 
Niger,  after  a  few  weeks  made  its  appearance  floating 
on  the  Quorra,  there  was  an  end  of  the  argument: 
the  names  might  be  two,  but  the  streams  were 
demonstrably  the  one  the  continuation  of  the  other. 
And  sometimes  a  critic,  indignant  at  an  anonymous 
author,  has  shewn  how  much  better  a  well-known 
writer  would  have  handled  the  self-same  subject — 
when  it  turns  out  that  the  nameless  and  the  well- 
known  personages  are  in  this  instance  identical.     In 


PRE-EXISTENCE.  13 

the  hundred  and  second  Psalm,  eternity  and  un- 
changeableness  are  ascribed  to  the  Great  Creator; 
and  there  is  no  opponent  of  the  Saviour's  divinity 
who  would  not  sing  that  psalm  as  a  fitting  ascription 
to  the  Most  High  God :  when,  behold !  the  Epistle  to 
the  Hebrews  informs  us  that  it  is  a  hymn  of  praise  to 
Jesus  Christ !  To  hail  any  creature,  and  say,  u  Holy, 
holy,  Lord  of  hosts ;  the  whole  earth  is  full  of  thy 
glory,"  we  shall  be  told,  by  those  who  view  Christ  as 
a  creature,  is  blasphemy.  And  yet  when  we  push 
our  inquiry  up  the  stream  of  time,  and  go  back  to  the 
period  to  which  John  the  Evangelist  sends  us — seven 
centuries  before  the  advent — we  find  this  identical 
anthem  sung  to.  Jesus  Christ  by  no  meaner  worship- 
pers than  the  heavenly  seraphim !  * 

Perhaps  there  is  no  doctrine  on  which  the  oracle 
has  pronounced  so  plainly  and  so  positively;  and 
when  to  the  direct  and  absolute  deliverance  of  Scrip- 
ture, you  add  all  its  incidental  confirmations,  the  proof 
becomes  not  only  irresistible,  but  almost  redundant 
and  oppressive.  For  instance,  if  Jesus  be  not  a  par- 
taker of  the  Divine  nature,  how  strange  and  unac- 
countable the  solemnity  which  encircles  His  person 
whenever  He  is  introduced  in  the  Word  of  God! 
"  How  comes  it  to  be  such  a  crime  to  trample  on  His 
blood ;  and  why  is  the  man  who  loves  Him  not  l  an 

•  Compare  Ps.  xlv.  6  with  Heb.  i.  8 ;  Ps.  cii.   25-27  with  Heb.  i. 
19-U ;  Isa.  vi.  1-4,  9,  with  John  xii.  39-41. 


14  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

anathema?'  Wherefore  is  it  represented  as  such  a 
stretch  of  Divine  munificence,  that  God  so  loved  the 
world  that  He  gave  His  only  begotten  Son,  if  that 
Son  were  a  mere  man  or  a  mere  archangel  ?  And 
when  Howard  and  other  men  have  impoverished 
themselves  for  their  fellow-men,  why  should  it  be 
deemed  such  peerless  generosity,  '  Ye  know  the 
grace  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  though  he  was 
rich,  for  your  sakes  he  became  poor;  that  ye,  through 
his  poverty,  might  be  rich?'  And  if  the  mind  of 
the  Saviour  were  finite,  how  should  it  need  a 
special  prayer  i  that  Christ  may  dwell  in  your  hearts 
by  faith  ;  that  ye,  being  rooted  and  grounded  in  love, 
may  be  able  to  comprehend,  with  all  saints,  what  is 
the  breadth,  and  length,  and  depth,  and  height ;  and 
to  know  the  love  of  Christ,  which  passeth  know- 
ledge?' "*  If  Christ  were  a  creature,  how  could  He 
promise  to  numerous  disciples,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you 
alway,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world?  "  And  how  shon1 1 
He  associate  His  name  with  the  Name  supreme  in  such 
a  symbol  as  the  baptismal  dedication,  "  Go  and  make 
disciples,  baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the  Father, 
and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost?" 

Is  there  an  attribute  or  an  act  of  the  Most  High 
which  is  not  ascribed  to  Jesus  Christ  ?  For  example, 
does  Jehovah  claim  eternal  existence  as  His  prero- 
gative?    "  Thus  saith  Jehovah,  I  am  the  first,  and  I 

*  Wardlaw  on  the  Socinian  Controversy,  pp.  46-48. 


PRE-EXISTENCE.  15 

am  the  last,  and  "besides  me  there  is  no  God."  But 
in  the  Apocalypse  Jesus  says  again  and  again,  u  I  am 
Alpha  and  Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  end,  the 
first  and  the  last."  Does  Jehovah  claim  as  a  Divine 
distinction  an  all-pervading  and  all-perceiving  pre- 
sence ?  Doe3  He  promise  to  the  Church  of  old  Israel, 
u  In  all  places  where  I  record  my  name,  I  will  come 
unto  thee,  and  I  will  bless  thee?"  And  does  He 
say,  "  The  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things ;  who 
can  know  it?  I  Jehovah  search  the  hearts;  I  try 
the  reins?"  But  has  not  Jesus  promised  to  the 
Christian  Church,  "  Where  two  or  three  are  gathered 
together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the  midst  of  them ;" 
"  Then  shall  all  the  churches  know  that  I  (Jesus)  am 
he  that  searcheth  the  reins  and  the  hearts?"  Is 
creation  the  work  of  Omnipotence,  and  must  "  the 
gods  who  have  not  made  the  heavens  perish  from  the 
earth?"  But  "all  things  were  made  by  the  Word, 
and  without  him  was  not  anything  made  that  was 
made."  "  By  him,"  that  is,  by  God's  "  dear  Son," 
"  were  all  things  created  that  are  in  heaven,  and  that 
are  in  earth,  visible  and  invisible,  whether  they  be 
thrones,  or  dominions,  or  principalities,  or  powers : 
all  things  were  created  by  him,  and  for  him  :  and 
he  is  before  all  things,  and  by  him  all  things 
consist." 

So  thoroughly  intermingled  with  the  whole  texture 
of  New  Testament  Scripture  is  the  Godhead  of  the 


16  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

Saviour,  that  no  criticism  which  does  not  destroy  the 
book  can  altogether  extinguish  its  testimony.  We 
have  seen  a  copy  of  the  Gospels  and  Epistles  which 
was  warranted  free  from  all  trace  of  the  Trinity,  but 
it  was  not  the  Testament  of  our  Lord  and  Saviour 
Jesus  Christ.  We  beheld  it,  and  we  received  instruc- 
tion. It  did  not  want  beauty ;  for  the  Parables,  and 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  many  a  touching 
passage,  still  were  there.  But  neither  would  a  garden 
want  beauty  if  the  grass  plats  and  green  bushes  still 
remained,  though  you  had  carefully  culled  out  every 
blossoming  flower.  The'  humanity  of  Jesus  still  is 
beautiful,  even  when  the  Godhead  is  forgotten  or 
denied.  Or  rather  it  looked  like  a  coronation  tapestry, 
with  all  the  golden  threads  torn  out ;  or  an  exquisite 
mosaic  from  which  some  unscrupulous  finger  had 
abstracted  the  gems  and  only  left  the  common  stones: 
you  not  only  missed  the  glory  of  the  whole,  but  in 
the  fractures  of  the  piece  and  the  coarse  piaster  with 
which  the  gaps  were  supplied,  you  saw  how  rude  was 
the  process  by  which  its  jewels  had  been  wrenched 
away.  It  was  a  casket  without  the  pearl.  It  was  a 
shrine  without  the  Shekinah.  And  yet,  after  all,  it 
was  not  sufficiently  expurgated ;  for,  after  reading  it, 
the  thought  would  recur,  How  much  easier  to  fabri- 
cate a  Gnostic  Testament  exempt  from  all  trace  of  our 
Lord's  humanity,  than  a  Unitarian  Testament  ignoring 
His  divinity  ! 


PRE-EXISTENCE.  17 

Nor  is  the  subject  we  have  now  been  handling  a 
barren  speculation — a  mere  dogma  in  divinity.  It 
lies  at  the  very  foundation  of  the  sinner's  hopes — it  is 
full  of  strong  consolation  to  those  whose  awakened 
consciences  crave  a  mighty  Redeemer.  The  demerit 
of  sin  is  enormous.  Considering  the  Majesty  which 
sin  insults  and  the  law  which  sin  violates,  it  is 
scarcely  possible  to  exaggerate  its  turpitude,  and  it 
is  impossible  to  see  how  a  creature  can  exhaust  its 
penalty.  But  Jesus  is  divine.  The  Surety  is  all- 
sufficient.  The  victim  is  God's  own  Son.  "  Christ 
with  his  own  blood  hath  entered  into  the  holy  place, 
having  obtained  eternal  redemption  for  us."  "Ye 
were  not  redeemed  with  corruptible  things,  as  silver 
and  gold,  but  with  the  precious  blood  of  Christ,  as  of 
a  lamb  without  blemish  and  without  spot."  When 
we  remember  that  God's  servant  was  in  this  case 
God's  Son,  we  can  understand  how  by  His  obedi- 
ence "  God's  righteous  servant  shall  justify  many." 
And  when  we  recollect  that  He  who  poured  forth 
His  soul  an  offering  for  sin  was  the  Creator  of 
the  ends  of  the  earth,  who  faiuteth  not,  neither  is 
weary — when  we  remember  that  to  all  the  suffer- 
ings of  the  Surety  this  value  was  given  that  they 
were  the  sufferings  of  innocence,  this  virtue  was  given 
that  they  were  the  sufferings  of  one  who  thought  it 
no  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God — when  we  remem- 
ber that  on  the  cross  of  Calvary  it  was  u  God  who 


18  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

did  sacrifice  to  God,"  we  can  see  at  once  how  precious 
is  the  blood  then  shed,  and  how  it  ckanseth  from  all 
sin.  No  wonder  that  in  Him  was  life,  and  the  life 
was  the  light  of  men.  For  His  people  Immanuel  has 
gained  the  privilege  of  being  their  second  Adam — 
their  new  and  nobler  head — restoring  that  life  which 
their  first  father  forfeited ;  and  the  safest  existence 
in  the  universe  is  the  life  which  is  "  hid  with  Christ 
in  God." 

Which  leads  us  to  remark,  in  conclusion,  How 
secure  are  the  friends  of  the  Saviour  !  Our  souls  are 
lost,  and  were  they  this  night  saved  and  given  back 
into  our  own  keeping,  we  should  soon  lose  them  again. 
And  were  the  best  and  holiest  man  we  ever  knew 
standing  surety  for  their  salvation,  we  should  still 
have  cause  to  tremble  ;  for  after  the  case  of  David 
and  Petar,  we  see  what  dire  disasters  may  befall  the 
fairest  and  stateliest  goodness  of  this  world.  Nay, 
were  an  angel  from  heaven  undertaking  to  keep  these 
souls,  we  might  still  have  cause  to  hesitate ;  for  there 
have  been  even  angels  who  kept  not  their  first  estate, 
and  how  shall  the  kindest  angel  answer  for  my  sin  ? 
But,  reader,  He  who  asks  the  keeping  of  your  soul  is 
Jesus,  the  Son  of  God — that  Saviour  who  has  at  His 
command  infinite  merit  to  atone  for  its  sin,  and  the 
might  of  omnipotence  to  guard  it  from  danger — that 
Saviour  who  is  one  with  the  Father,  and  who  can 
say,  "  To  my  sheep  I  give  eternal  life ;  neither  can  any 


PRE-EXISTENCE.  19 

pltick  them  out  of  my  Father's  hand."  Ah,  brother, 
an  immortal  soul  is  a  pearl  of  great  price,  and  that 
soul  alone  is  safe  whose  Kedeemer  is  mighty.  But 
were  it  possible  to  take  your  soul  in  your  hand,  and 
transfer  it  as  completely  away  to  Him  as  you  might 
open  a  casket  and  give  away  the  gem,  so  that  for  years 
and  ages  you  should  see  it  no  more,  it  were  a  wise 
and  safe  consignment.  But  how  is  it  that  Jesus  does  ? 
The  soul  thus  surrendered  He  takes,  and  puts  His  own 
royal  mark  upon  it,  and,  though  left  in  the  casket  of 
clay  for  a  time,  it  is  as  safe  as  any  jewel  in  His  crown. 
But  He  does  not  forget  it.  He  confides  it  to  the  care 
of  that  Heavenly  Artist  who  polishes  its  rough  sur- 
faces and  grinds  away  its  disfiguring  flaws  ;  and  by 
the  pains  taken  with  it — by  the  old  things  passing 
away  and  the  new  things  appearing — the  believer 
knows  that  Jesus  has  accepted  this  deposit,  and  will 
claim  it  in  the  day  when  He  makes  up  His  jewels. 
And  when  guilt  upbraids  him,  or  Satan  sifts  him,  or 
the  King  of  Terrors  puts  all  his  courage  to  the  test, 
that  joyful  believer  can  exclaim,  "  I  know  whom  I 
have  believed,  and  I  am  persuaded  that  he  is  able  to 
keep  that  which  I  have  committed  unto  him  against 
that  day." 


Most  of  the  time  which  Abraham  spent  in  the  Land 
of  Promise,  he  sojourned  at  Mamre.  With  its  aiiy 
uplands — its  hill-sides  sprinkled  with  olives,  vines, 
and  cherry-trees — its  turf  dappled  with  daisies  and 
the  star-of-Bethlehem — it  was  a  charming  retreat; 
and  what  made  it  still  more  delightful  was  a  thicket 
of  evergreen  trees,  under  which  he  had  formed  his 
encampment.  Here,  in  the  heat  of  the  day,  Abraham 
would  often  sit  at  the  entrance  of  his  patriarchal 
pavilion ;  and  as  the  bees  murmured  in  the  dark 
foliage  overhead,  and  soft  winds  passed  into  the 
tent,  it  was  pleasant  to  look  through  half-shut  lids 
and  espy  the  herdmen  and  their  flocks  huddled 
together  in  the  shadow  of  the  distant  copse;  and 
amidst  the  sunshine,  with  its  sleepy  oppression,  it 
was  pleasant  to  close  these  lids  and  muse  on  the 
wonderful  past  till  slumber  succeeded,  and  life's 
morning  in  Ur,  the  appearance  of  the  God  of  glory, 
and  the  more  wonderful  future,  floated  and  flickered 
through  the  noon-day  vision. 


APPEARANCES  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT.  21 

On  one  such  occasion  the  patriarch  received  a 
remarkable  visit.  He  observed  three  men  approach- 
ing, and,  with  the  impulse  of  the  olden  hospitality, 
he  hasted  forth  to  meet  them.  As  soon  as  he  was 
near  enough,  in  one  of  them  he  perceived  something  so 
pre-eminent  and  prince-like, — we  could  almost  fancy 
something  which  so  brought  to  mind  the  days  of  Ur 
and  "  the  God  of  glory," — that  with  a  lowly  prostra- 
tion he  exclaimed,  "  My  Lord,  if  now  I  have  found 
favour  in  thy  sight,  pass  not  away,  I  pray  thee,  from 
thy  servant ; "  and  then,  extending  his  welcome 
to  all  the  three,  he  added,  "  Let  a  little  water,  I 
pray  you,  be  fetched,  and  wash  your  feet,  and  rest 
yourselves  under  the  tree ;  and  I  will  fetch  a  morsel 
of  bread,  and  comfort  ye  your  hearts."  They  ac- 
cepted the  invitation.  They  sat  down  in  the  leafy 
shade ;  and  when  Sarah's  cakes,  and  the  calf  from 
the  herd,  with  milk  and  butter,  were  placed  on  the 
board,  they  partook  of  the  friendly  cheer ;  and  when 
they  had  ended  their  repast,  and  when  the  principal 
guest  had  rewarded  the  kindness  of  his  host  by 
announcing  that  the  time  at  length  was  come,  and 
that  the  son  of  promise  should  now  be  born,  Sarah's 
incredulous  laughter  was  rebuked  by  the  significant 
challenge,  "Is  anything  too  hard  for  Jehovah?" 

But  if  any  doubt  as  to  the  heavenly  character  of 
the  speaker  remained,  that  doubt  was  speedily  dis- 
pelled.     When  the  meal  was  emled  and  the  day  was 

'4^*   Of  TH* 


22  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

growing  cool,  the  travellers  resumed  their  journey. 
They  set  their  faces  eastward,  and  Abraham  accom- 
panied them.  They  soon  reached  an  eminence  from 
which  they  beheld  a  glorious  prospect.  Embosomed 
amongst  the  mountains  stretched  a  little  paradise. 
Fringed  with  palms,  luxuriant  with  tropic  verdure, 
and  reflecting  the  purple  cliffs  from  the  tranquil  bends 
of  its  glistening  river,  it  almost  looked  as  if  a  frag- 
ment of  old  Eden  had  drifted  down  the  stream  and 
stranded  among  these  silent  hills ;  and  as  the  specta- 
tor gazed  on  the  mighty  orchard,  and  heard  the  hum 
ascending  from  the  smokeless  villages,  he  might  be 
pardoned  if  he  envied  the  inhabitants  of  such  a  happy 
valley.  But  Abraham's  companions  looked  grave, 
and  as  the  two  subordinates  went  down  the  steep, 
Abraham  and  the  other  were  left  alone.  That  other 
now  stood  forth  in  Deity  confessed.  He  told  Abra- 
ham that  this  lovely  scene  was  about  to  become  the 
theatre  of  a  fearful  visitation.  'The  place  is  fair, 
but  the  people  are  vile.  Their  sin  is  very  grievous. 
As  here  we  stand,  there  comes  up  the  lowing  of  the 
herds,  the  carol  of  the  evening  bird ;  but  that  which 
reaches  the  ear  of  God  is  the  cry  of  abominable 
iniquities — the  loo^e  jest,  the  ribald  song,  the  voice 
of  lust  and  violence.  And  although  the  landscape  is 
beautiful,  on  account  of  its  horrible  inhabitants 
Heaven  cannot  look  at  it.  It  is  time  to  pour  over  it 
the  flaming  annihilation,  and  blot  it  out  of  being.' 


APPEARANCES  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT.  23 

And  Abraham's  face  grew  pale.  The  doomed  region 
contained  those  whom  he  dearly  loved ;  and,  falling 
at  the  feet  of  the  celestial  speaker,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Oh,  let  not  the  Lord  be  angry,"  and  with  an  affable 
and  yielding  arbiter  he  urged  his  suit  till  he  hoped 
that  he  had  won  a  reprieve  for  the  guilty  cities. 
Then  "  the  Lord  went  his  way  as  soon  as  he  had 
left  communing  with  Abraham." 

No  one  can  doubt  that  the  patriarch's  Visitor  was  a 
Divine  Person ;  and  any  one  who  considers  the  entire 
facts  of  the  case  and  the  fitness  of  things,  can  have  as 
little  doubt  that  this  Divine  Person  was  He  who 
afterwards  said  of  Himself,  "  Before  Abraham  was,  I 
am,"  and  who  enunciated  the  great  truth,  "  No  man 
hath  seen  God  at  any  time;  the  only  begotten  Son, 
which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  he  hath  de- 
clared him."  He  it  was  who  said,  "  Shall  I  hide 
from  Abraham  that  thing  which  I  do?"  and  it  was 
He  who,  when  the  two  angels  passed  on  and  entered 
Sodom,  remained  alone  with  the  patriarch,  and  con- 
fided to  him  the  secret  of  the  coming  overthrow.  It 
was  He  who,  so  exorable  and  so  ready  to  pardon,  gave 
in  six  times  over  to  His  servant's  intercession,  and 
said,  "  For  the  sake  of  ten  righteous,  I  will  not 
destroy  it ; "  and  who,  when  a  fearful  necessity 
inverted  the  vials  of  vengeance,  "  remembered  Abra- 
ham," and  rescued  the  kindred  of  His  friend. 

A  century  and  a  half  passed  on — a  century  and  a  half 


24  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

of  those  ample  and  deliberate  days,  when  incidents 
were  few  and  impressions  lasted  long.  Abraham 
slept  by  Sarah's  side  in  the  cave  of  Machpelah,  but 
God  was  mindful  of  His  covenant,  and  in  the  sunny 
world  outside  the  sepulchre  He  was  making  that  cove- 
nant to  grow.  Isaac's  son  and  Abraham's  grandson 
was  returning  from  a  foreign  sojourn,  and  was  bring- 
ing with  him  eleven  sons  of  his  own,  and  a  mighty 
retinue.  And  he  was  nearing  the  Promised  Land,  but 
still  on  the  further  side  of  Jordan.  Word  had  reached 
him  that  an  angry  brother  was  on  the  way  to  meet  him 
with  an  overwhelming  company ;  and,  after  making 
the  best  arrangements  to  propitiate  Esau,  he  was  now 
left  alone  in  darkness  and  in  solitude.  To-morrow 
would  decide  his  destiny,  and  whilst  others  slumbered 
in  the  tents,  Jacob,  anxious  and  wakeful,  wandered 
down  to  the  sides  of  Jabbok,  and  cried  in  his  extre- 
mity to  the  God  of  Bethel.  But  instead  of  heaven 
opening,  instead  of  some  friendly  sign  from  the 
excellent  glory,  the  patriarch  found  himself  suddenly 
assaulted.  It  might  be  Esau  himself,  or  it  might  be 
some  supernatural  opponent;  but  it  seemed  as  if  a 
man  were  wrestling  with  him,  bearing  him  backward, 
twisting,  thrusting,  and  straining,  and  striving  to 
hurl  him  to  the  ground.  It  was  a  strange,  mysteri- 
ous conflict,  with  no  spectators  except  the  stars,  and 
in  a  silence  only  broken  by  the  babbling  of  the  brook ; 
yet,  silent  and  insuperable  as  he  was,  Jacob  began  to 


APPEARANCES  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT.  25 

feel  that  his  opponent  was  not  an  enemy.  He  was 
not  an  enemy,  and  yet  he  withstood  the  pilgrim's 
prayer ;  and  though  Jacob  "  wept  and  made  sup- 
plication," as  well  as  struggled  in  his  earnest  agony, 
he  could  not  extort  his  request,  till  the  day-spring 
closed  the  strife,  and  with  a  touch  that  left  him  lame 
for  life,  and  with  a  blessing  that  made  him  illustrious 
to  all  eternity,  the  angel  vanished.  u  And  Jacob 
called  the  name  of  the  place  Peniel;  for  I  have 
seen  God  face  to  face,  and  my  life  is  preserved." 
Jacob  gave  the  place  a  new  name,  and  God  gave  a 
new  name  to  the  patriarch.  "  Thy  name  shall  be 
called  no  more  Jacob,  but  Israel;  for  as  a  prince 
hast  thou  power  with  God  and  with  man,  and  hast 
prevailed."  The  supplanter  had  come  out  in  a  new 
character,  and  earned  a  new  title.  By  this  valiant 
constancy  as  man  with  man,  he  had  evinced  himself 
a  hero  and  a  king  of  men ;  by  this  fervid  importunity 
as  a  creature  with  his  Creator,  he  had  come  out  a 
prince  of  believers,  a  favourite  with  Heaven,  the  con- 
queror of  condescending  Omnipotence,  a  pattern  of 
perseverance  in  prayer. 

Two  centuries  and  a  half  passed  on — four  hundred 
years  since  the  flames  of  Sodom  were  quenched  in 
the  Dead  Sea,  and  its  ashes  buried  in  that  sullen 
sepulchre.  The  descendants  of  Abraham  and  Israel 
were  now  bondsmen  in  Egypt ;  and  in  the  grim  soli- 
tudes of  Sinai,  one  of  the  proscribed  race,  a  man  who 


26  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

had  been  reared  in  a  palace,  but  who  was  now  re- 
duced to  do  the  work  of  a  herdsman,  was  watching 
the  flock,  but  was  revolving  higher  themes,  when  he 
was  suddenly  startled  by  a  strange  phenomenon.  A 
blaze  of  light  drew  his  eyes  in  the  direction  of  a  cer- 
tain shrub  or  tree,  which  for  a  moment  he  might  have 
fancied  had  caught  fire  ;  but  although  with  its  bril- 
liant pyramid  it  outshone  the  noon,  he  quickly  noticed 
that  it  was  not  really  burning.  It  was  transfigured, 
and  its  leaves  and  branches  shone  as  through  a  tent  of 
flame  ;  but  instead  of  curling  and  crackling  in  the 
heat,  it  continued  unconsumed,  and  from  its  excel- 
lent glory  a  voice  hailed  the  astonished  exile :  "  Draw 
not  nigh,  but  put  off  thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet ;  for 
the  place  whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground." 
Had  this  been  all,  Moses  might  have  imagined  that 
"  the  angel  of  the  Lord"  who  appeared  to  him  in  the 
bush,  and  whose  voice  he  now  heard,  was  a  mere 
ministering  spirit,  one  of  the  many  members  of  the 
heavenly  host ;  but  the  speaker,  "  angel"  as  he  was, 
went  on  to  add,  "  I  am  the  God  of  thy  father,  the 
God  of  Abraham,  the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God  of 
Jacob."  Then  Moses  hid  his  face,  and  from  between 
the  leafy  cherubim  and  from  within  the  flaming  canopy 
the  voice  proceeded  :  "  I  have  surely  seen  the  affliction 
of  my  people  in  Egypt,  and  I  have  heard  their  cry:  and 
I  am  come  down  to  deliver  them,  and  to  bring  them 
unto  a  good  land  and  a  large,  a  land  flowing  with  milk 


p 

APPEARANCES  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT.  27 

and  honey.  Come  now,  therefore,  and  I  will  send 
thee  unto  Pharaoh,  that  thou  may  est  bring  forth  my 
people,  the  children  of  Israel,  out  of  Egypt."  And 
when  the  timid  Hebrew  trembled  at  the  task,  when 
he  shrank  from  the  prospect  of  appearing  before  Pha- 
raoh, in  order  to  disarm  his  fears  the  speaker  added, 
"  Certainly  I  will  be  with  th.e."  Accordingly,  from 
the  Xew  Testament  we  gather  that  the  Son  of  God,  the 
Saviour,  accompanied  that  exodus  ;  that  it  was  His 
voice  which  shook  Mount  Sinai ;  that  it  was  He 
whom  the  murmurers  tempted  at  Massah,  when  so 
many  were  destroyed  of  serpents  ;  and  that  He  was 
the  spiritual  roek  of  whom  the  believers  among  them 
drank  as  oft  as  they  resorted  to  their  Divine  conduc- 
tor and  unfailing  companion." 

The  significance  of  these  passages  is  considerably 
impaired,  owing  to  a  certain  vagueness  which  attends 
the  use  of  the  word  "  angel."  That  word  we  are 
apt  to  associate  with  celestial  beings,  higher  than  our- 
selves, but  inferior  to  the  Creator.  And  doubtless 
the  whole  heavenly  host  are  angels ;  but  there  is  no- 
thing to  prevent  a  Divine  Person,  or  a  human  person 
either,  from  acting  as  an  angel.  An  "  angel"  means 
a  " messenger"  or  "missionary,"  an  "envoy,"  "one 
who  is  sent; "  and  just  as  early  evangelists  were  angels 
or  messengers  of  the  Church,  so  the  Son  of  God  was 

•  Heb.  xii.  26;  1  Cor.  x.  9,  4.  The  evidence  on  this  subject  ia 
arranged  with  consummate  ability  and  clearness  in  Principal  Hill's 
"  Lectures  in  Divinity,"  book  iii. 


28  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

the  messenger  or  angel  of  the  Father.  And  the  only 
way  to  educe  a  consistent  meaning  from  the  passages 
now  quoted,  is  to  merge  for  a  moment  the  ambiguous 
intermediate  word,  the  u  angel,"  and  fix  our  regards 
on  the  two  extremes — the  "  Man"  and  u  the  Mighty 
God  " — in  one  word,  Messiah,  the  Divine  Missionary, 
the  Messenger  of  the  Covenant,  God  manifest  in 
flesh,  the  Angel-Jehovah. 

With  this  clue  how  readily  all  the  dispensations 
run  into  one  another,  and  how  real  is  the  identity  of 
all  believers !  Yes,  the  Divine  Friend,  with  whom 
Enoch  walked,  is  the  same  as  He  who  on  the  road 
to  Emmaus  made  the  heart  of  Cleopas  and  his  com- 
rade burn  within  them  ;  and  that  Alpha  and  Omega 
of  all  his  affections  who  well-nigh  detached  from  the 
imprisoning  rock  and  the  encumbering  clay  the  exile 
of  Patmos,  is  the  same  Jesus  who  by  another  name 
talked  with  our  sinless  progenitors  in  the  fragrant 
bowers  of  Paradise.  He  who  said  to  Moses  going  up 
to  a  fierce  tyrant,  u  Certainly  I  will  be  with  thee,"  is 
the  same  Saviour,  so  sympathetic  and  so  mighty, 
who  said  to  apostles  going  out  into  a  frowning  world, 
"  And  lo !  I  am  with  you  alway ! "  and  He  whom 
the  eastern  monarch  saw  walking  in  the  midst  of  the 
burning  pile  with  the  three  unscathed  martyrs,  is  the 
same  u  Son  of  Man  "•  whom  through  the  opened 
heaven  Stephen  saw  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  and 
to  whom,  with  latest  breath,  he  cried,  u  Lord  Jesus, 


APPEARANCES  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT.  29 

receive  my  spirit."  Nay,  that  Almighty  Friend 
who  was  the  sole  companion  of  the  Hebrew  Law- 
giver's dying  hour,  and  who  took  all  the  charge  of 
Moses'  funeral,  is  the  same  who  said  of  Himself,  "  I 
am  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life,"  and  whose  own 
lifeless  form  at  last  was  laid  in  Joseph's  sepulchre. 

And  do  we  err  when  we  fancy  a  resemblance  be- 
tween these  earlier  visits  and  certain  incidents  which 
happened  after  the  eventual  Incarnation?  Is  there 
nothing  in  the  burning  bush  which  transports  our 
thoughts  to  Tabor?  and  in  the  awful  attraction 
which  made  Moses  "  draw  near,"  and  the  overwhelm- 
ing glory  which  next  instant  bore  him  to  the  dust, 
was  there  nothing  akin  to  that  consciousness  of  encir- 
cling heaven  which  made  the  spectators  at  once  bury 
their  faces  and  yet  cry  from  the  midst  of  their 
amazement,  "Master,  it  is  good  to  be  here?"  At 
the  ford  of  Jabbok  is  there  nothing  which  sends  us 
away  to  the  coasts  of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  and,  as  a  twin- 
picture  to  the  father  wrestling  for  all  his  family, 
exhibits  a  poor,  weak  woman  importuning  for  her 
only  child,  till  He  who  said  to  the  one,  "  Thy  name 
shall  be  called  Israel,  for  as  a  prince  thou  hast  pre- 
vailed with  God,"  amazed  at  a  faith  such  as  He 
had  found,  "  no,  not  in  Israel,"  at  length  yielded  to 
a  tenacity  which  silence,  and  rebuffs,  and  seeming 
reluctance  could  not  shake  off,  exclaiming,  "  O 
woman,  great  is  thy  faith :  be  it  unto  thee  even  as 


30  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

thou  wilt?"  And  in  that  God-like  form  which 
looked  down  so  sadly  on  the  doomed  and  lovely  cities 
of  the  plain,  and  which,  for  the  sake  of  a  redeeming 
few,  would  so  willingly  have  saved,  is  there  no  re- 
semblance to  One  who,  two  thousand  years  thereafter, 
stood  upon  a  neighbouring  height,  and,  looking  down 
on  another  doomed  but  lovely  city,  burst  into  tears, 
and  cried,  "  If  thou  hadst  known  in  this  thy  day 
the  things  that  belong  to  thy  peace ! — but  now  they 
are  for  ever  hid  from  thine  eyes." 

The  attire  may  alter,  but  the  wearer  does  not 
change.  The  missionary  may  talk  one  language 
in  England  and  another  in  India;  ])ut  his  mind 
is  in  either  land  the  same.  The  attire,  the  mode 
of  manifestation,  the  expressive  actions,  the  style 
of  language  vary,  as  they  fit  into  the  several  ages, 
from  the  primitive  archaic  time  down  to  the  days  of 
the  Gospel  story :  but  throughout  we  can  recognise 
ever  reappearing  the  self-same  Eevealer  of  the  Father, 
the  self-same  Prophet  of  the  Church — that  very  Son 
of  God  who  saved  the  first  sinner,  who  saved  the 
worst,  and  who  seeks  to  save  ourselves,  "  Jesus  Christ, 
the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  for  ever."  And,  on 
the  other  hand,  as  far  as  the  fundamental  ideas  are 
concerned,  the  Church  of  God  on  earth  has  all  along 
been  one.  It  has  always  been  on  the  ground  of  an 
atonement,  whether  anticipated  or  accomplished,  that 
the   sinner  has   found   pardon   and   acceptance.     It 


APPEARANCES  BEFORE  THE  ADVENT.  31 

has  always  been  through  the  Mediator — through  the 
Manifester  of  the  Father  and  the  Saviour  of  men — 
that  the  believer  has  held  communion  with  God. 
And  in  this  sense, — as  sinners  who  pled  the  Great 
Sacrifice ;  as  believers  who  communed  with  palpable 
and  articulate  Deity,  who  worshipped  the  Angel- 
Jehovah,  who  adored  God  manifest  in  the  flesh, — all 
alike  have  been  Christians.  Malachi  was  a  Christian, 
and  Zechariah,  and  Isaiah.  The  sweet  singer  of 
Israel  was  a  Christian,  and  there  was  no  truer  Chris- 
tian in  this  sense  than  Moses  himself.  The  father 
of  the  faithful  was  a  Christian,  and  so  was  Noah, 
and  so  was  Enoch,  and  so,  we  would  fain  hope,  was 
the  father  of  mankind — the  first  Adam  himself. 


I  &bfr*ttt 


Augustus  was  Emperor. 

From  the  Atlantic  to  the  Euphrates — from  where 
the  legions  were  arrested  by  the  snows  of  Sarmatia 
northward,  and  the  sands  of  Libya  southward,  the 
world  was  a  Roman  farm ;  and  with  all  its  lovely 
islands  and  fruitful  shores,  the  Mediterranean  was  a 
Roman  lake.  Mauritania  and  Numidia,  Egypt,  Pa- 
lestine, Syria — the  countries  now  known  as  Turkey, 
Germany,  Spain,  France,  Belgium,  Holland,  Britain 
— all  received  their  laws  from  the  Italian  capital, 
and  all  sent  it  their  tribute.  With  its  hundred  and 
twenty  millions  of  subjects,  this  region  included  the 
whole  of  the  old  world's  intelligence,  and  nearly  all  its 
wealth;  and  though  many  of  the  conquered  nations  were 
fierce  and  strong,  they  had  been  effectually  subdued, 
and  were  now  overawed  by  an  army  of  300,000  men. 
With  its  beak  of  brass  and  its  talons  of  steel  the 
great  eagle  had  grappled  and  overcome  the  human 
race,  and  the  whole  earth  trembled  when  from  his 
seven-hilled  eyrie  he  flapped  his  wings  of  thunder. 


THE  ADVENT.  33 

There  was  nearly  universal  peace.  By  the  courage 
and  consummate  generalship  of  Julius  Caesar,  the 
most  formidable  nations  had  already  been  vanquished; 
and  since  the  death  of  Pompey,  and  the  conclusion 
of  the  civil  war,  the  Empire,  undivided  and  undisputed, 
was  swayed  by  a  single  autocrat. 

The  pagan  culture  had  culminated.  The  exquisite 
temples  of  Greece  had  begun  to  go  to  ruin,  and  in 
that  land  of  sages  there  arose  no  new  Pythagoras — 
no  second  Socrates.  But  the  genius  of  Rome  had 
scarcely  passed  the  zenith.  Seneca  was  born  in 
the  same  year  with  John  Baptist.  Thousands  still 
lived  in  whose  ears  the  musical  wisdom  of  Cicero 
lingered,  and  who  had  read,  when  newly  published, 
the  sublime  speculations  of  Lucretius.  It  was  but 
the  other  day  that  the  sweet  voice  of  Virgil  had 
fallen  mute,  and  only  eight  years  since  the  tomb  of 
Maecenas  had  opened  to  admit  the  urn  of  Horace. 
Under  its  sumptuous  ruler  Rome  was  rapidly  be- 
coming a  mountain-pile  of  marble  palaces — baths, 
temples,  theatres — the  proudest  on  which  sunbeams 
ever  sparkled ;  and,  with  his  enormous  wealth  and 
all-commanding  absolutism,  the  Roman  citizen  was 
the  lordliest  mortal  whom  luxury  ever  pampered — 
the  most  supercilious  demi-god  who  ever  exacted 
the  adulation  of  his  fellows.* 

*  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  the  victory  of  Arminius,  which  gave 
the  first  ominous  check  to  the  world's  conqueror,  did  not  take  place  till 
a.».  0.    (8ee  Creasy's  "  Decisive  Battles. ")   Of  Roman  wealth,  some  idea 


34  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

Yet,  amidst  all  this  civilisation,  it  was  a  time  of 
fearful  depravity.  In  regions  so  remote  as  Britain 
and  Germany  it  was  scarcely  surprising  that  dark 
superstitions  should  prevail,  and  that  hecatombs  of 
little  children  should  be  immolated  by  the  fiends  of 
the  forest.  But  in  Rome  itself,  under  all  the  outward 
refinement,  coarse  tastes  and  fierce  passions  reigned; 
and  the  same  patrician  who  at  a  false  note  in  music 
would  writhe  with  graceful  agony,  could  preside  im- 
perturbable over  the  tortures  of  a  slave  or  a  prisoner ; 
and  to  see  him  overnight  shedding  tears  at  one  of 
Ovid's  Epistles,  you  would  not  guess  that  he  had  all 
the  morning  been  gloating  on  the  convulsions  of  dying 
gladiators.  Busts  of  Cato  adorned  the  vestibule, 
but  brutality  and  excess  ran  riot  through  the  halls ; 
and  it  was  hard  to  say  which  was  the  most  abandoned 
— the  multitude  who  still  adored  divinities  the 
patrons  of  every  crime,  or  the  scholars  who  laughed 
at  superstition  and  perpetrated  crimes  worthy  of  a 
Mars  or  Jupiter. 

This  was  the  time  which  the  Most  High  selected 
for  the  greatest  event  of  human  history.  On"  the  one 
hand,  it  was  a  time  of  tranquillity.  The  wars  of  long 
centuries  had  ceased.     Men's  minds  were  not   ab- 

may  be  formed  from  the  fact  that  in  one  triumph.  Julius  Caesar  brought 
home  to  the  public  treasury  twelve  and  a-half  millions  sterling,  and  in 
four  years  the  private  fortune  of  Seneca  the  philosopher  was  augmented 
by  more  than  two  millions  of  our  money.  The  reader  of  Horace  and 
Juvenal  will  not  need  to  be  reminded  of  the  vanity  of  the  imperial 
Eoman,  nor  of  that  gross  flattery  on  which  it  subsisted. 


THE  ADVENT.  35 

sorbed  in  the  contests  of  dynasties,  nor  agitated  by 
the  burning  of  their  capitals  and  the  desolation  of 
their  homes.  And  a  lull  like  this  was  favourable 
for  the  commencement  of  a  moral  movement  which 
concerned  the  whole  of  Adam's  family.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  world  was  old  enough.  For  four  thousand 
years  the  great  experiment  had  been  going  on,  and 
man  had  been  permitted  to  do  his  best  to  retrieve  the 
ruin  of  the  Fall.  It  seemed,  however,  as  if  every 
struggle  were  only  a  deeper  plunge ;  and  betwixt  the 
exploded  nostrums  of  philosophy,  and  the  corruption 
of  the  times,  the  world  was  grown  weaiy  of  itself. 
A  dry  rot  had  got  into  the  ancient  faith,  and  idolatry 
and  hero-worship  tottered  on  their  crumbling  pillars. 
Satiety  or  disgust  was  the  prevailing  mood  of  the 
wealthy ;  revenge  and  despair  gnawed  the  heart  of 
the  down-trampled  millions.  For  tribes  which  had 
lost  their  nationality,  and  for  citizens  who  had  sold 
their  hereditary  freedom,  there  was  no  spell  in  the 
past ;  and  amongst  a  people  who  had  lost  faith  in  one 
another,  there  remained  nothing  which  could  inspire 
the  fervour  of  patriotism.  It  was  felt  that  if  extri- 
cation ever  came,  it  must  come  from  above ;  and  even 
in  heathen  lands,  hints  gathered  from  the  Hebrew 
tures,  or  prophetic  particles  floated  down  on  the 
muddy  tide  of  pagan  mythology,  began  to  be  carefully 
collected  and  exhibited  in  settings  of  the  richest  poetry, 
till  the  bard  of  Mantua  sang  of  a  virgin,  and  an  unpre- 


36  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

cedented  offspring  descended  from  high  Heaven,  who 
should  efface  the  traces  of  our  crimes,  and  free  from 
its  perpetual  fears  the  world — in  whose  days  the  lion 
would  be  no  terror  to  the  ox,  and  the  deadly  serpent 
should  die.  Betwixt  the  general  peace  which  pre- 
vailed, the  hopeless  wickedness,  and  the  general 
wearying  for  a  change,  u  the  road  was  ready,  and 
the  path  made  straight."  "  The  fulness  of  time  was 
come,  and  God  sent  forth  His  Son." 

As  the  time  was  fulfilled,  so  the  place  was  pre- 
pared. Two  thousand  years  before,  the  Most  High 
had  marked  off  the  land  of  Canaan,  and  had  sepa- 
rated from  the  rest  of  mankind  the  family  of  Abraham, 
and,  by  a  series  of  remarkable  interpositions,  had  pro- 
vided and  preserved  a  cradle  for  the  coming  Incarna- 
tion. For  the  first  two  thousand  years,  the  promise 
was  public  and  promiscuous.  The  world's  Redeemer 
might  be  born  anywhere,  and  might  spring  from  any 
family.  There  was  nothing  to  prevent  His  advent 
at  Ararat  or  Olympus — nothing  to  preclude  His 
descent  from  Japheth  or  from  Ham.  The  only  thing 
certain  was,  that  He  was  coming,  and  that  He  was 
to  descend  from  Eve  the  mother  of  us  all.  But  five 
centuries  after  the  flood  a  restricting  process  began, 
and  by  a  series  of  limitations  the  promise  was  ren- 
dered more  and  more  precise.  First  of  all,  God 
chose  a  certain  Chaldee  family,  and  Abraham  was 
pronounced  the  chosen  progenitor  of  Messiah.     Then 


THE  ADVENT.  37 

a  further  restriction  was  made,  and  of  Abraham's  two 
sons  the  younger  was  taken.  By  and  by  the  choice 
was  still  more  narrowed,  and  of  Isaac's  twelve  grand- 
sons the  dying  Jacob  predicted  that  in  Judah's  line 
must  Shiloh  come.  And  in  this  latitude  the  promise 
continued  for  many  centuries,  till  to  one  of  Judah's 
descendants  it  was  revealed  that  amongst  his  pos- 
terity should  be  that  mighty  Prince,  "whose  name 
shall  endure  for  ever,  and  whom  all  nations  shall  call 
blessed."  The  same  exhaustive  process  which  at  last 
left  David's  family  the  favoured  and  eventful  line, 
made  Palestine,  then  Judah,  and  finally  the  little 
town  of  Bethlehem,  the  predestined  and  distinguished 
locality.  80  that  when  Malachi  laid  down  the  pen, 
and  for  the  four  centuries  following,  during  which 
heaven  opened  no  more,  and  the  voice  of  inspiration 
was  hushed,  the  decree  was  gone  forth,  and  both 
the  place  and  the  pedigree  were  conclusively  fixed. 
Not  of  Greek  or  Trojan  ancestry,  not  in  the  hoary 
line  of  the  Seleucidae  nor  in  the  haughty  house  of 
ir,  but  beyond  all  dispute,  and  all  rivalry 
aside,  in  the  lineage  of  David  would  Messiah  ap- 
pear; and  neither  Memphis  nor  Babylon,  neither 
Athens  nor  Rome,  no,  nor  even  the  holy  city,  no,  not 
even  Jerusalem,  but  of  all  places  in  the  world, 
though  so  little  among  the  thousands  of  Judah, 
should  Bethlehem-Ephratah  be  the  spot  for  ever 
eminent,  "out  of  which  should  that  Ruler  appear, 


33  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

whose  goings  forth  have  been  from  of  old,  from  ever- 
lasting." 

Over  the  family  and  the  region  thus  selected  a 
special  Providence  watched,  and  the  world's  history- 
supplies  no  parallel  to  the  fortunes  of  the  peculiar 
people  who  were  to  be  Messiah's  progenitors.  All 
along  and  divinely  predestined  as  the  receptacle  of 
incarnate  Deity,  the  land  was  in  the  occupancy  of 
gigantic  idolaters  when  Jehovah  presented  it  to 
Abraham;  but  if  the  Canaanites  could  have  enter- 
tained any  fear  of  the  old  and  childless  pilgrim,  their 
fears  must  have  vanished  when  they  saw  his  great- 
grandsons  saddle  their  asses  and  creep  away  down 
into  Egypt,  a  hungry  and  poverty-stricken  company. 
Ages  passed  on,  and  in  all  the  promised  land  there 
were  no  tidings  of  its  preposterous  claimants,  except 
that  they  were  now  the  thralls  of  Pharaoh,  and  never 
likely  to  quit  the  brick-fields  and  burning  kilns  of 
On.  But  at  last  a  rumour  ran  that  the  slaves  h  "" 
escaped ;  and  if  they  ever  got  disentangled  from  the 
Arabian  desert,  they  might  possibly  revisit  their  ancient 
seats,  and  renew  their  ancestral  claim.  But  to  the 
tall  Anakim,  to  the  Jebusites  perched  aloft  on  their 
rocky  fortresses,  and  to  the  Canaanites  scouring  the 
plain  in  their  chariots  of  iron,  there  was  only  a 
theme  of  derision  in  the  approach  of  the  motley  mul- 
titude. At  last,  however,  with  its  mysterious  pre- 
cursor— with  its  cloudy  ensign  moving  before — that 


THE  ADVENT.  39 

multitude  began  to  darken  the  eastern  bank  of  the 
Jordan,  and  the  men  of  Jericho  could  see  them,  pha- 
lanx by  phalanx,  condensing  just  over  against  their 
city.  But  deep  and  wild  the  river  ran  between,  and 
the  wanderers  had  neither  boat  nor  pontoon:  and  high 
and  strong  the  ramparts  rose,  and  the  wanderers  had 
neither  scaling-ladder  nor  battering-ram.  Yet  on,  still 
on,  the  strangers  pressed;  and  oh,  wonderful!  the 
river  started  back,  and  curbed  its  waters  till  the  whole 
had  passed.  On,  still  on,  the  strangers  strode,  and 
round  and  round  the  rocky  citadel  they  stalked  in 
mystic  marches,  till  a  harsh  and  horrid  blare  had 
seven  times  sounded,  and,  like  a  mud-hovel  in  the 
jaws  of  an  earthquake,  the  castle  walls  crashed  in 
and  poured  their  dusty  ruin  far  and  near.  On,  still 
on,  that  invading  billow  spread  and  poured — a  charmed 
host  unused  to  soldiership,  and  with  scarce  a  sword 
among  them ;  and  from  the  frown  of  their  guiding 
Pillar,  and  from  the  flash  of  their  oracular  Urim,  the 
embattled  squadrons  of  Philistia  melted  and  disap- 
peared, till  from  Judah's  milky  pastures,  all  across 
Jezrecl's  golden  granary,  on  to  the  wine-purpled  skirts 
of  Lebanon  and  the  honey-dropping  cliffs  of  Carmel, 
the  land  swarmed  with  the  chosen  race,  and  fulfilled 
yen's  oath  to  faithful  Abraham. 

less  surprising  was  that  Providence  which 
hermetically  sealed  the  favoured  region,  and  which, 
segregating   from   all   the  peoples  of  the  earth  the 


40  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

people  of  Israel,  and  infusing  its  distinctive  element 
into  the  national  mind,  kept  Hebrew  nature  from 
ever  again  mingling  and  getting  merged  in  the  com- 
mon human  nature.  How  wonderful  the  wisdom 
which,  like  naphtha  in  a  fountain  or  like  amber  in  the 
sea,  ever  floating,  never  melting,  amidst  every  dis- 
persion, in  Egypt  and  in  Babylon,  kept  the  race 
distinct!  How  determinate  the  counsel  and  fore- 
knowledge of  God  which  fixed  on  the  all-important 
portion  of  the  Hebrew  family,  and,  letting  go  as  of 
no  account  ten  tribes,  protected  and  preserved  the 
wonder-freighted  Judah !  How  evident  the  mind  of 
God  in  that  home-instinct  which,  when  other  de- 
ported tribes  settled  down  in  inglorious  quiescence 
— like  those  sea-creatures  which,  riven  from  the  rock, 
still  cling  to  it  with  their  long  tentacula,  gave  Judah 
feelers  long  enough  to  stretch  across  seventy  years  of 
exile,  and  which,  beside  the  waters  of  Babylon,  still 
kept  him  clasped  to  Jerusalem,  and  painfully  quiver- 
ing till  once  he  returned;  and  how  all-seeing  that 
Eye,  which,  amidst  the  few  thousands  of  rescued 
captives,  made  sure  of  Zerubbabel,  and  amidst  the 
ransomed  who  returned  to  Zion  saw  safely  on  his  way 
David's  descendant  and  Mary's  grandsire  !  And  oh, 
how  wonderful  that  counsel  and  excellent  that  work- 
ing which  brought  about  the  fulness  of  the  time — 
which  deferred  the  advent  till  the  world  was  at  its 
worst,  and  the  race  to  be  redeemed  was  in  its  sorest 


THE  ADVENT.  41 

need — and  which  yet,  in  a  general  peace,  secured  an 
audience  and  an  entrance  for  the  forthcoming  Gospel, 
and  which  in  universal  empire,  in  the  great  arterial 
roads  and  ubiquitous  presence  of  the  Koman  con- 
queror, prepared  for  its  glad  tidings  the  swiftest 
transmission ;  which,  planting  Messiah's  cradle  on 
the  summit  of  the  hollowed  mine,  took  care  that  He 
should  be  born  before  that  mighty  explosion  burst 
which  was  to  tear  in  shreds  each  Hebrew  pedi- 
gree, and  leave  not  a  Jew  within  fifty  miles  of  Beth- 
lehem ;  and  as  soon  as  that  advent  was  over  came  the 
blaze  of  the  great  catastrophe,  dispersing  the  Jewish 
people  over  all  the  world,  confusing  all  their  families, 
consuming  all  their  genealogies,  and  making  it  utterly 
impossible  that  another  Son  of  David  should  be  bom 
in  David's  town ! 

The  prophetic  and  providential  preparation  being 
thus  complete,  "  The  Word  was  made  flesh." 

"  It  was  in  the  time  of  great  Augustus'  tax, 
And  then  He  comes 
That  pays  all  sums, 
Even  the  whole  price  of  lost  humanity, 
And  sets  us  free 
From  the  ungodly  empery 
Of  sin,  and  Satan,  aLd  of  death."  * 

"With  God  there  is  no  forgetfulness.  With  Him 
there  is  nothing  formidable.  With  Him  a  thousand 
years  arc  as  one  day. 

*  Jeremy  Taylor. 


42  EAELY  INCIDENTS. 

It  was  exactly  a  thousand  years  since  a  promise 
had  been  made  to  David,  that  a  son  of  his  should 
possess  universal  sovereignty.  "  He  shall  have  do- 
minion from  sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  river  unto  the 
ends  of  the  earth.  All  kings  shall  fall  down  before 
him  ;  all  nations  shall  serve  him,  and  shall  call  him 
blessed.  In  his  days  shall  the  righteous  flourish, 
and  abundance  of  peace  so  long  as  the  moon  endureth." 
And  it  looked  almost  possible  that  this  promise  might 
be  fulfilled  in  the  sumptuous  Solomon.  His  domi- 
nions were  vast,  his  reign  was  pacific ;  and  whilst  with 
the  omnipotence  of  wealth  he  had  piled  up  on  the 
heights  of  Zion  whole  quarries  of  marble  and  forests 
of  cedar,  he  had  filled  the  world  with  the  fame  of  his 
wisdom. 

But  neither  Solomon  nor  Solomon's  son  fulfilled 
the  prophecy ;  and  ever  since  that  day  the  Hebrew 
monarchy  had  been  dwindling  more  and  more,  till 
now  the  sceptre  of  Judah  had  grown  a  truncheon, 
short  and  shabby,  and  was  wielded  by  a  usurper's 
foul  and  servile  hand. 

Meanwhile,  the  descendants  of  David — where  were 
they?  You  see  this  grassy  dingle,  rimmed  round 
with  its  fifteen  hills,  and  a  village  on  the  slope  of  one 
of  them— a  beautiful  spot,  abounding  in  birds  and 
flowers,  corn-fields  and  gardens,  and  with  a  fine  fresh 
air  often  stirring  the  oaks  and  the  mulberries,  and 
sweeping  a  powdery   cloud   up   the   dusty   streets 


THE  ADVENT.  43 

That  village  is  Nazareth — a  charming  seclusion,  but 
its  inhabitants  are  not  a  gainly  people.  They  are 
coarse,  lawless,  uncivil,  and  with  their  broad  patois 
and  sulky  independence,  they  are  no  favourites  with 
their  neighbours.  But  among  them  is  at  least  one  good 
man,  a  widower  of  the  name  of  Joseph.  All  through 
the  week  he  labours  diligently  in  that  shed  of  his,  with 
James  and  his  other  sons  around  him,  making  ploughs 
for  the  farmers,  bowls  and  kneading-troughs  for  the 
matrons,  spears  and  arrows  for  the  hunters.  But  on 
the  afternoon  of  the  sixth  day  the  finished  implements 
are  sent  home,  and  the  scene  of  industry  is  swept  and 
garnished.  The  saw  and  the  hammer  are  hung  from 
the  rafters,  and,  fragrant  with  cedar-dust  and  chips  of 
pine,  the  shop  is  left  to  silence  and  solitude,  whilst, 
released  from  his  toils,  the  weary  artizan  enters  his 
cottage  to  light  the  Sabbath-lamp,  and  then  ascends 
the  brow  of  the  hill  where  stands  the  synagogue.  To 
that  same  synagogue  repairs  the  carpenter's  youthful 
kinswoman  and  affianced  bride.  Meek,  single-hearted, 
devout,  she  listens  reverently  whilst  the  Law  and 
the  Prophets  are  read,  and  as  the  songs  of  Zion  are 
chanted  to  David's  own  tunes,  her  soul  ascends  on 
the  wings  of  psalmody.  That  lily  among  thorns, 
that  maid  of  Nazareth,  and  that  toil-worn  craftsman, 
Joseph  the  carpenter,  are  the  descendants  of  the  im- 
perial Solomon,  the  representatives  of  the  old  Hebrew 
royalty.    • 


4A  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

Five  hundred  years  before  this,  a  Hebrew  prophet 
lay  on  the  banks  of  a  Babylonian  river  in  an  agony  of 
patriotism  and  prayer,  and  the  burden  of  each  peti- 
tion was  the  return  of  the  captivity  and  the  rebuilding 
of  Jerusalem.  At  the  close  of  the  intercession  a  celes- 
tial courier  appeared,  and  told  him  more  than  he  had 
asked  to  know.  Not  only  did  he  foretell  the  build- 
ing of  Jerusalem,  but  he  announced  matters  far  more 
momentous.  He  told  the  time  of  Christ's  coming, 
and  how,  "  after  seventy  weeks,"  reconciliation  should 
be  made  for  iniquity,  and  an  everlasting  righteous- 
ness should  be  brought  in.  causing  sacrifice  and  obla- 
tion to  cease. 

And  now  that  the  period  had  arrived,  and  this 
great  promise  was  about  to  be  fulfilled,  the  same  hea- 
venly envoy  was  despatched  to  the  scene  of  the  evolv- 
ing mystery.  Desirous  to  look  into  these  things, 
angels  watched  his  flight.  But  it  was  on  no  lordly 
mansion  that  Gabriel  descended.  Not  even  in  that 
Holy  Land  did  Tiberias,  with  its  shadowy  bowers 
and  rosy  terraces,  attract  his  feet ;  nor  Cesarea,  with 
its  princely  villas,  laved  by  luxurious  seas  ;  nor  Jeru- 
salem, with  its  ancient  palaces ;  and  what  seemed 
stranger  still,  not  even  David's  city,  the  favoured  and 
predicted  Bethlehem.  But  speeding  straight  towards 
this  outlandish  upland  village,  out  of  which  no  good 
thing  had  ever  come,  and  which  had  never  once  been 
named  in  the  whole  Old  Testament  stor^,  he  dis- 


THE   ADVENT.  45 

charged  his  great  commission,  and  announced  to  the 
meek  and  lowly  virgin  that  of  all  Abraham's  daugh- 
ters it  was  herself  who  was  destined  to  be  the  mother 
of  Messiah.  She  should  have  a  son,  Jesus  by  name, 
and  "  lie  shall  be  great,  and  shall  be  called  the  Son 
of  the  Highest;  and  the  Lord  God  shall  give  unto 
him  the  throne  of  his  father  David;  and  he  shall 
reign  over  the  house  of  Jacob  for  ever ;  and  of  his 
kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end." 

Tidings  of  great  joy,  when  shut  up  in  our  feeble 
minds,  grow  terrible.  The  distinction  which  had 
come  to  Mary  was  one  that  had  for  ages  lent  a  dig- 
nity and  sacredness  to  the  entire  Hebrew  sisterhood  ; 
and  now  that  Mary  found  it  concentered  in  herself, 
the  realisation  was  overwhelming,  and  the  promise 
which  faith  did  not  stagger  to  receive,  it  seemed  as  if 
reason  must  stumble  to  carry.  There  was  no  one  in 
that  Nazareth  to  whom  she  could  impart  the  amazing 
announcement,  and  therefore  it  was  a  relief  to  remem- 
ber that  the  angel  had  mentioned  her  own  cousin 
Elizabeth  as  the  subject  of  a  like  interposition ;  and 
far  away  as  was  the  hill  country  of  Judah,  Mary 
made  up  her  mind  to  the  journey,  and  resolved  to 
seek  out  her  venerable  relatives  in  their  highland 
home. 

A  certain  parity  of  years  is  usually  essential  to 
frank  communion,  and  to  the  sympathy  which  springs 
from  a  thorough  mutual  understanding.     But  when 


46  EAKLY  INCIDENTS. 

the  heart  is  sore  troubled,  we  are  apt  to  look  a  little 
upward.  We  want  something  superior  to  ourselves 
to  which  to  cling — something  older,  wiser,  or  better. 
Had  it  been  any  ordinary  news  or  any  worldly  pro- 
ject, it  would  have  been  natural  to  talk  it  over  to 
some  village  companion.  But  an  event  so  sacred  and 
solemn — an  event  which  had  suddenly  linked  Mary's 
humble  history  to  the  whole  of  human  destiny,  and 
which,  if  "  highly  favoured,"  had  also  made  her  feel 
herself  fearfully  distinguished — such  an  event  she  had 
no  heart  to  confide  to  any  Nazarene  neighbour.  But 
in  that  distant  parsonage  there  dwelt  a  godly  pair — 
kind,  considerate,  strong  in  the  sagacity  of  the  single 
eye,  and  bright  with  the  benevolence  of  an  alluring 
piety.  Perhaps  Elizabeth  might  be  able  to  throw 
some  light  on  the  angel's  message ;  at  all  events, 
Mary  would  find  soothing  and  support  in  that  calm 
and  prayerful  dwelling. 

.  How  she  journeyed  we  do  not  know ;  but  as  she 
neared  the  house  of  Zach arias,  many  thoughts  would 
arise  in  her  mind.  Now  would  be  decided  whether 
what  the  angel  had  told  about  her  cousin  Elizabeth 
were  true,  or  whether  the  whole  were  not  a  strange 
delusion — a  wild  waking  vision.  But  how  astonished 
they  would  be  to  see  her !  and  how  was  she  to  ex- 
plain her  errand  ?  As  she  neared  the  spot  difficulties 
started  up  which  she  had  not  thought  of  in  her  im- 
petuous outset,  and  the  house  of  the  Levite  looked 


THE  ADVENT.  47 

more  formidable  at  the  journey's  end  than  when 
viewed  from  the  cottage  in  Nazareth.  There  was  no 
one  stirring  out  of  doors,  and  no  one  noticed  her 
approach.  She  ventured  in,  and  so  softly  did  she 
steal  into  the  quiet  chamber  that  its  only  occupant, 
a  matron  advanced  in  years,  did  not  observe  her 
entrance.  "Cousin  Elizabeth,  all  hail!"  trembled 
from  a  gentle  child-like  voice,  and  instantly  springing 
up  and  turning  round,  with  a  look  such  a 3  Mary  had 
never  seen  in  her  kinswoman  before — such  a  look  of 
awe  and  ecstasy — the  older  exclaimed  to  the  younger, 
"  Blessed  art  thou  among  women,  and  blessed  is  the 
Son  thou  shalt  bear!  And  how  is  it  that  the  mother 
of  my  Lord  should  come  to  me?"  Reassured  by  a 
salutation  so  akin  to  the  antecedent  miracle,  the  soul 
of  Mary  rushed  forth  in  the  rapid  and  tuneful  inspira- 
tion of  that  "Magnificat"  which  is  repeated  in  the 
audience  of  millions  day  by  day:— 


My  soul  doth  mngnify  the  Lord, 

And  my  spirit  hath  rejoiced  in  God  my  Saviour, 

For  he  hath  regarded  the  low  estate  of  his  handmaiden: 

For,  behold,  from  henceforth  all  generations  shall  call  me  blessed. 

For  he  that  is  mighty  hath  done  to  me  great  things ; 

And  holy  is  his  name ; 

And  his  mercy  is  on  them  that  fear  him, 

From  generation  to  generation. 

He  hath  shewed  strength  with  his  arm ; 

II-  hath  Mjuttcn/d  the  i>r<md  in  the  imagination  of  their  hearts. 

:  it  put  down  the  mighty  from  their  seats, 
And  exalted  them  of  low  degree. 
He  hath  611cd  the  hungry  with  good  things, 


48  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

And  the  rich  he  hath  Bent  empty  away. 

He  hath  holpen  his  servant  Israel, 

In  remembrance  of  his  mercy ; 

As  he  spake  to  our  fathers, 

To  Abraham, 

And  to  his  seed  for  evermore." 


tt\\t\tm,  aitir  %  Jffet  f  rat  to  |frasabt. 

Mary  remained  in  the  hill-country  of  Judah  three 
months,  and  it  was  doubtless  a  profitable  season 
which  she  spent  in  that  peaceful  seclusion.  True, 
the  venerable  Levite  was  dumb.  As  a  reproof  for 
his  incredulity  he  had  been  doomed  to  a  temporary 
silence ;  but  in  the  dwellings  of  the  righteous  there 
is  an  atmosphere  of  reassuring  tranquillity  even  when 
the  voice  of  rejoicing  i3  hushed,  and  when  familiar 
footfalls  are  heard  no  longer.  Perhaps,  too,  Zacharias 
prayed  the  more  when  cut  off  from  wonted  converse ; 
and  the  circumstances  attending  his  bereavement 
added  another  sign  to  the  many  wonders  of  this 
eventful  season:  whilst  the  soul  of  her  youthful 
visitor  imbibed  new  faith  from  the  cheerful  converse 
and  experienced  piety  of  the  "  blameless  "  Elizabeth. 
Returning  to  Nazareth,  and,  in  consequence  of  a 
IHvine  admonition,  recognised  by  Joseph  as  his 
affianced  bride,  "  the  handmaid  of  the  Lord "  was 
soon  called  to  undertake  another  pilgrimage.  An 
ancient  prophecy,  possibly  ked  or  obscurely 


50  EARLY  INCIDEXT8. 

known  by  Mary,  had  fixed  on  Bethlehem  in  Judah 
as  the  birthplace  of  Messiah.  But  to  that  town 
Mary  had  no  errand ;  when,  in  the  determinate 
counsel  and  foreknowledge  of  Gcd  an  incident  fell 
out  which  sent  her  thither.  It  occurred  to  Caesar 
Augustus  to  take  up  a  census  of  Palestine;  and  in 
order  that  the  enumeration  might  be  systematically 
conducted,  all  the  inhabitants  were  ordered  to  rendez- 
vous at  the  head-quarters  of  their  respective  families ; 
and,  as  descendants  of  the  royal  family,  Joseph  and 
his  wife  set  out  for  David's  city. 

Bethlehem  was  a  long  village,  straggling  on  the 
ridge  of  a  gray  limestone  hill,  a  few  miles  south  from 
Jerusalem.  Its  inhabitants  prided  themselves  on 
their  great  fellow-citizen,  who  had  founded  the 
Hebrew  monarchy.  They  could  shew  the  stranger 
the  fields  where  he  had  herded  his  sheep — where  he 
had  practised  his  sling  on  the  kites  and  the  eagles— 
where  he  had  fought  the  bear  and  the  lion.  They 
could  shew  the  well  at  the  gate  which  he  had  drunk 
of  so  often,  and  the  field  to  which  his  grandmother 
came  a  timid  young  gleaner ;  and  from  the  airy  crest  of 
the  town  they  could  point  out  the  purple  heights  far 
away  where  Ruth  spent  her  childhood — the  myste- 
rious strange-languaged  mountains  of  Moab. 

That  evening  when  Joseph  and  Mary  arrived, 
Bethlehem  looked  beautiful ;  for  we  have  reason  to 
believe  that  it  was  the  sweet  season  of  spring.     It 


BETHLEHEM,  AND  THE  FIRST  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM.    51 

was  pleasant  to  get  away  from  the  bustle  and  crowd 
of  Jerusalem — out  to  the  open  air — out  to  the  fresh- 
ness of  the  country.  It  was  pleasant  to  tread  among 
daisies,  anemones,  and  stars  of  Bethlehem ;  and 
very  sweet  was  the  breath  of  the  budding  vine,  very 
sweet  was  the  odour  crushed  from  the  herbage  by 
the  tread  of  the  pilgrims.  It  was  pleasant  to  hear 
from  yonder  fig-tree  shade  the  voice  of  the  turtle, 
and  more  pleasant  still  the  merry  shouts  of  boys  and 
girls  playing  in  the  hamlets  as  they  passed — and 
most  pleasant  of  all  was  the  voice  of  mutual  endear- 
ment with  which  the  travellers  beguiled  the  last  stage 
of  their  journey. 

And  now,  as  they  reached  the  village  entrance,  and 
went  in  through  the  sounding  gateway,  the  loungers 
gazed  at  the  North-country  carpenter  and  his  beauti- 
ful wife ;  but  little  did  any  one  guess  that  in  the 
arrival  of  these  lowly  visitors  a  prophecy  was  fulfilled, 
and  Bethlehem  ennobled  beyond  all  the  thousands  ot 
Judah.  There  was  an  unusual  bustle  in  the  streets. 
The  same  decree  which  had  brought  one  party  from 
Nazareth  had  summoned  many  families  from  other 
corners  of  the  Holy  Land.  The  village  overflowed ; 
and  as  when  people  come  together,  released  from 
wonted  avocations  and  doomed  to  necessary  idleness, 
there  was  much  wandering  to  and  fro — much  talk 
and  buzz — perhaps  some  foolish  merriment.  Eagerly 
did  the  Galilean   strangers   seek   the  inn.     It  was 


•32  EA1ILY  INCIDENTS. 

impossible.  There  was  no  room.  Others  had  been 
refused  already.  Nor  was  there  any  private  house 
or  friendly  lodging  that  would  take  them  in ;  and 
weak  and  weary  as  she  was,  Joseph  was  thankful 
when  he  found  for  his  partner  a  resting-place  in  the 
stable. 

The  night  soon  gathered.  The  shouts  of  the 
revellers  fell  silent  in  the  khan,  and  stillness  en- 
folded Bethlehem.  It  was  that  soft  season  when 
Eastern  shepherds  lodge  in  the  fields  all  night,  and  a 
party  of  these  humble  peasants  kept  their  bivouac  on 
the  adjacent  hills.  They  were  David's  hills,  and  as 
they  sat  around  their  watch-fire,  and  listened  to  the 
wolfs  "  long  howl "  from  yon  dark  valley,  perhaps 
they  sang,  "  The  Lord's  my  shepherd :  " — 

"  Yea,  though  I  walk  in  death's  dark  Tale, 
Yet  will  I  fear  none  ill : 
For  thon  art  with  me ;  and  thy  rod 
And  staff  me  comfort  still ! " 

As  the  mild  stars  glittered,  and  among  them  that 
strange  new  one  which  had  lately  lit  up  their  firma- 
ment; as  the  thyme  gave  out  its  fragrance  to  the 
dew,  and  nothing  stirred  except  where  some  wakeful 
lamb  was  nibbling  the  cool  grass,  most  likely  the 
weary  men  were  sleeping.  But  something  brilliant 
burst  into  their  slumber,  and,  starting  up,  they  found 
a  mysterious  daylight  round  them,  and  a  shining 
form  before  them.      They  were   terrified,  for   they 


BETHLEHEM.  AND  THE  FIKST  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM.   53 

knew  that  it  was  an  angel.  But  he  said,  "  Fear  not : 
for  I  bring  you  good  tidings : — 

"  To  you,  in  David's  town,  this  day 

Is  born,  of  David's  line, 
The  Saviour,  who  is  Christ  the  Lord ; 

And  this  shall  be  the  sign : 
The  heav'nly  Babe  you  there  shall  find 

To  human  view  display'd, 
All  meanly  wrapt  in  swaddling-bands, 

And  in  a  manger  laid." 

Hardly  had  the  angel  ceased,  when  the  sky  bright- 
ened with  sudden  splendour,  and  melted  into  music : 

"  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest, 
On  earth  peace, 
Good- will  toward  men." 

Oh,  it  was  exquisite  that  burst  of  seraphic  melody! 
and  as  it  lapped  the  listeners  round  and  round,  it 
seemed  to  sever  from  all  sin :  it  brought  God  so  near, 
and  filled  the  spirit  with  such  peace,  that  the  soul  could 
easily  have  been  beguiled  out  of  the  body — and  as  its 
liquid  whisper  brought  them  back  and  laid  them  on 
the  earth  again,  they  held  their  breath  in  hope  that 
the  chorus  might  burst  again.  But  the  guard  of 
honour  was  going  home.  The  light,  the  music 
gathered  up  itself,  and  as  the  pearly  portals  closed, 
the  air  fell  dark  and  dead. 

Yes,  the  angels  were  gone  home  again  to  heaven. 
But  the  shepherds  said  to  one  another,  "  Let  us  go  to 
Bethlehem,  and  see  this  thing  which  has  come  to 


£3  EARLY   INCIDENTS. 

pass,  which  the  Lord  has  made  known  to  us." 
Entering  the  village,  and  hastening  towards  the  khan, 
they  saw  a  lamp  burning  in  the  stable,  and  enter- 
ing in,  there  assuredly  was  the  new-born  babe, 
wrapped  in  swaddling-clothes,  and  lying  in  a  manger. 
And  that  is  Christ  the  Lord!  That  infant  is  the 
Saviour!  Heaven's  gift  and  earth's  benediction! 
Oh,  what  a  waking  will  evolve  from  this  soft  slumber ! 
Glory  to. God  and  peace  to  the  world  are  calmly 
sleeping  in  that  cradle ! 

They  told  Joseph  and  Mary  what  it  was  that 
brought  them ;  and  as  they  described  the  angel's  visit, 
and  the  aerial  orchestra,  and  repeated  all  that  they 
had  heard,  a  holy  gladness  filled  the  mind  of  the 
virgin  mother,  and  the  joy  of  the  Lord  was  strength 
to  her.  The  shepherds,  too,  forgetful  of  all  that  must 
happen  before  that  infant  could  be  a  man,  but  feeling 
as  if  it  were  all  fulfilled  already,  went  their  way, 
praising  God ;  and  for  long  they  trod  their  hills  with 
recollected  step,  as  favoured  men  should  tread  on 
holy  ground;  and  in  the  night  would  sometimes 
awake  and  listen,  fancying  that  angelic  harps  had 
floated  by. 

Eight  days  passed  on,  and,  with  the  old  Hebrew 
rite,  the  babe  was  named.  How  He  should  be  called, 
there  was  no  dispute;  for  the  angel  had  fixed  His 
name  beforehand.  And  so  His  name  was  called 
Jesus. 


BETHLEHEM,  AND  THE  FIRST  VISIT. TO  JERUSALEM.   j5 

A  month  passed  on,  and  according  to  another  ap- 
pointed usage,  His  parents  went  up  to  Jerusalem.  On 
this  auspicious  occasion,  had  they  been  rich,  they 
would  have  taken  a  lamb  and  a  dove  as  their  offer- 
ing ;  and  had  it  been  a  royal  churching,  there  would 
have  swept  into  the  temple  courts  a  splendid  cor- 
tege, rustling  in  silks,  and  blazing  with  jewels, 
and  the  highest  functionaries  of  the  temple  would 
have  awaited  in  gorgeous  attire  the  princely  proces- 
sion. But  when  a  poor  woman  entered,  with  a  babe 
on  one  arm,  and  a  little  basket  with  two  young 
pigeons  on  the  other,  the  whole  thing  was  so  com- 
mon, that  the  officials  were  glad  to  hurry  through 
the  ceremony  as  fast  as  possible :  and  although  the 
Lord,  whom  they  pretended  to  seek,  was  "  suddenly 
come  to  His  temple,"  His  arrival  would  have  arrested 
no  notice,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  keener  suscepti- 
bility of  two  veteran  devotees.  To  one  of  these, 
Simeon,  it  had  been  specially  revealed,  that  he  should 
not  die  till  he  had  seen  the  Messiah ;  and  just  as 
Joseph  and  Mary  were  slowly  ascending  the  steps  of 
Moriah,  the  Holy  Spirit  revealed  to  him,  "He  is 
come!  He  is  come!"  If,  for  a  moment,  Simeon  ex- 
pected an  imperial  presence — a  crowned  head,  and  a 
sceptered  hand — his  agile  faith  was  not  taken  aback, 
and  he  betrayed  no  disappointment  at  the  lowly 
babe:  but  instantly  clasping  Him  in  his  arms,  he 
cried, — 


56  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

"  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace, 
According  to  thy  word : 
For  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation, 
Which  thou  hast  prepared  before  the  face  of  all  people ; 
A  light  to  lighten  the  Gentiles,  and  the  glory  of  thy  people  Israel." 

And  as  the  parents  marvelled  at  the  old  man's 
rapture,  and  as  he  handed  back  to  Mary  the  heavenly 
child,  he  added,  "  This  child  is  set  for  the  fall,  and 
for  the  restoration  of  many  in  Israel ;  and  for  a  sign 
which  shall  be  spoken  against,  that  the  thoughts  of 
many  hearts  may  be  revealed  :  yea,  and  a  sword 
shall  pierce  through  thine  own  soul  also."  And 
whilst  he  spoke,  the  group  was  joined  by  an  ancient 
prophetess,  a  well  known  frequenter  of  the  temple 
precincts,  where  she  lingered  all  day,  and  near  which 
she  lodged  by  night.  Anna  came  up,  and,  sharing 
Simeon's  expectant  spirit,  she  also  shared  in  Simeon's 
ecstasy.  M  Coming  in  that  instant,  she  likewise  gave 
thanks  to  the  Lord,  and  spake  of  him  to  all  them 
that  looked  for  redemption  in  Jerusalem." 

The  words  of  Simeon,  including  his  hymn  of 
praise,  and  his  address  to  the  mother  of  our  Lord, 
derive  a  charm,  not  only  from  their  piety  and  the 
peculiar  circumstances  in  which  they  were  uttered, 
but  they  are  striking  as  the  last  of  the  Messianic 
prophecies.  In  this  final  and  concentrated  predic- 
tion, we  have  in  brief  compass  a  sketch  of  Christ's 
character  and  office,  and  are  foretold  the  fortunes  of 


BETHLEHEM,  AND  THE  FIEST  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM.    57 

His  Gospel  in  the  world.  Like  the  large-hearted 
and  far-stretching  seers  of  old,  but  quite  unlike  the 
"rude  mass"  of  his  modern  compatriots,*  Simeon 
exults  in  the  catholicity  and  comprehensiveness  of  the 
great  salvation.  Perhaps,  with  Isaiah's  cadence  in 
his  ear,  u  In  this  mountain  shall  the  Lord  of  Hosts 
make  unto  all  people  a  feast  of  fat  things,  a  feast  of 
wines  on  the  lees;  of  fat  things  full  of  marrow,  of 
wines  on  the  lees  well  refined,"  j*  he  describes  this 
great  salvation  as  "  prepared  before  the  face  of  all 
people;"  and  whilst,  as  a  patriot,  he  celebrates  "the 
glory  of  Israel,"  as  a  prophet,  he  hails  "  the  Light 
of  the  Gentiles."  Yes,  it  is  not  Abraham,  nor 
David;  it  is  not  Moses,  nor  Solomon;  but  it  is  Jesus 
who  is  to  be  the  glory  of  Israel ;  and  other  nations 
may  boast  of  having  yielded  sages  and  saints,  but  it  is 
Israel's  boast  to  have  yielded  to  the  world  its  Saviour. 
To  the  world,  for  Israel's  glory  is  the  Light  of  the 
Gentiles.  When  the  Egyptian  princess  gazed  on  the 
bulrush  ark,  she  did  not  think  that  the  babe  there 
weeping  was  to  be  a  mightier  man  than  any  Pharaoh 
of  them  all,  and  would  leave  a  name  to  outlast  the 
Pyramids.  But  when  Simeon  gazed  on  the  virgin's 
child,  he  knew  its  mighty  destinies,  and  his  heart 
beat  thick  to  think  how  soon  from  these  swaddling- 
bands  would  unfold,  not  Israel's  second  Lawgiver,  but 
the  Light-giver  to  mankind.     Yes,  this  spark  of  im- 

•  OUhausen.  t  Ib.  xxv.  6 


& 


58  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

mortality,  this  soft  and  cloud-like  innocence,  is  yet 
to  flame  forth  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  and,  all  un- 
like the  giant  of  the  firmament,  who  can  only  lighten 
a  single  hemisphere  with  his  world-embracing  beams, 
Jesus  shall  lighten  every  land ;  and  although  exha- 
lations from  the  abyss  may  for  a  season  intercept  His 
beams,  whatever  spot  admits  them,  Waldensian  valley 
or  Bohemian  forest,  Lapland  hut  or  English  palace, 
that  spot,  deriving  light  direct  from  heaven,  will  be 
a  Goshen  amid  surrounding  gloom. 

Peculiar  privileges  are  accorded  to  eminent  piety. 
It  is  possible  that  Simeon  and  Anna  may  not  have 
been  altogether  alike  ;  but  they  were  both  of  them 
remarkably  good.  The  one  was  "just  and  devout;" 
a  man  of  uprightness  and  probity,  as  well  as  of  reli- 
gious profession ;  an  old  cedar,  sound  at  the  core,  and 
with  his  branches  green  ;  by  the  godly  loved  for  his 
heavenly-mindedness,  and  by  all  men  revered  for  his 
virtues.  And  Anna — there  was  one  thing  which  she 
desired  of  the  Lord,  and  sought  after,  that  she  might 
dwell  in  the  house  of  the  Lord  all  the  days  of  her 
life,  to  behold  His  beauty,  and  to  inquire  in  His 
temple.  Since  her  own  dwelling  had  darkened,  and 
she  left,  mayhap  on  Asher's  sounding  shore,  the  hus- 
band of  her  youth,  she  had  sought  no  other  home 
than  God's  own  house.  Her  Maker  was  her  husband, 
and  she  knew  no  dearer  joy  than  to  serve  Him  with 


BETHLEHEM,  AND  THE  FIKST  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM.     59 

prayers  and  fastings  night  and  day.  At  early  dawn, 
when  the  crimson  east  was  reflected  from  the  temple 
gates,  and  before  the  silver  trumpets  had  sent  their 
warbling  summons  to  royalty  asleep  in  yonder  palace, 
and  to  the  population  dreaming  on  yon  smokeless 
house-tops,  Anna  often  was  waiting  and  ready  to 
enter  as  soon  as  the  guards  had  flung  open  the  pon- 
derous doors.  And  at  night,  when  the  Levites  had 
refreshed  with  new  fuel  the  golden  altar,  and  the 
lamps  burned  clear  in  the  holy  shrine;  when  the 
outer  court  was  hushed — for  traders  and  wrorshippers 
were  mostly  gone — and  lights  began  to  flicker  from 
the  cloister  windows,  with  nothing  to  lure  her  back 
to  mortal  dwellings,  and  with  God  himself,  her  sun 
and  shield,  to  retain  her  where  she  was,  Anna  was 
among  the  last  to  withdraw.  But  in  whatever  they 
resembled  or  differed,  Simeon  and  Anna  were  alike 
in  their  piety.  They  were  both  of  them  loyal  to  the 
God  of  their  fathers.  They  were  both  of  them 
saintly  survivors  of  the  simple  faith  of  an  earlier 
time.  And  they  were  both  of  them  expectant  be- 
lievers, who  had  Christ  in  their  hearts  long  before 
they  found  Him  in  their  arms.  They  looked  for  re- 
demption ;  they  longed  for  the  consolation  of  Israel. 
And  He  who  gives  grace  for  grace  surprised  His  ser- 
vants with  a  rare  and  remarkable  blessing.  For  one 
thing,  he  endowed  them  with  the  spirit  of  prophecy. 
Since  Malachi,  inspiration  had  vanished  from  the  Holy 


60  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

Land ;  and  it  was  at  once  a  sign  of  the  Advent,  and  a 
distinction  conferred  on  these  two  eminent  worship- 
pers, that  in  them,  amongst  the  first,  the  silence  broke, 
and  the  lost  gift  was  revived.  Anna  the  prophetess 
was  the  successor  of  Miriam  and  Deborah  ;  and  Simeon 
summed  up  that  long  series  of  Messianic  prophecies  to 
which  David  and  Isaiah  had  been  the  largest  contri- 
butors. The  secret  of  the  Lord  is  with  them  that 
fear  Him.  And  it  was  in  virtue  of  this  prophetic 
power  that  they  were  enabled  to  detect  their  own 
felicity ;  for  the  same  Holy  Spirit  who  awakened  in 
them  the  longing  for  Christ's  day,  told  them  when 
Christ  was  come.  By  making  them  pure  in  heart, 
He  fitted  them  for  seeing  God ;  and  by  making  them 
prophets,  He  assured  them  that  it  was  God  whom  now 
they  saw.  The  Angel  of  the  Covenant  was  paying  His 
first  visit  to  the  temple,  but  the  numerous  danglers 
at  its  gates  saw  nothing  but  an  infant  carried  in.  The 
worshippers  in  the  courts  knelt,  and  kept  repeating, 
u  Speedily,  speedily ;  Lord,  come  to  thy  temple 
speedily;"  and  little  dreamed  that  the  answer  to  their 
prayer  was  actually  arrived.  The  hirelings  at  the  altar 
saw  a  poor  couple  approach,  and  contemptuously  eyed 
the  scanty  ofTer.  And  even  the  priest  presiding  little 
surmised  his  high  prerogative ;  he  little  thought  that 
his  mitred  predecessor,  who  at  that  same  altar  had 
awaited  the  Queen  of  Solomon,  was  less  distinguished, 
and  that,  in  days  to  come,  no  prelate  at  an  emperor's 


61 

christening  would  receive  into  his  arms  so  august  an 
infancy.  But  what  was  hid  from  worldly  sagacity, 
and  from  sacerdotal  formalism  ;  what  was  hid  from 
the  wise  and  prudent,  was  revealed  to  the  meek 
faith  and  penetrating  eye  of  these  Heaven-taught 
worthies;  and  however  long  or  short  they  tarried 
after  this,  Simeon  and  Anna  trod  the  streets  of  Jeru- 
salem with  a  consciousness  which  its  proudest  citizen 
might  envy.  They  had  seen  the  great  salvation. 
They  had  seen  the  Christ  of  God.  They  had  re- 
ceived into  their  hands,  and  pressed  to  their  adoring 
bosoms  the  promised  seed,  the  woman's  Son,  the 
Man  Jehovah.  To  them  it  was  no  longer  faith,  but 
sight.  Their  new  economy  had  dawned  :  their  New 
Testament  existence  was  begun.  They  had  found 
their  Gospel  in  yonder  temple,  and  whenever  they 
departed  from  this  world,  they  would  leave  Immanuel 
in  it. 

This  incident  also  shews  us  that  before  leaving  the 
world,  God's  people  are  made  willing  to  go.  Up  to 
that  moment,  Simeon  would  have  been  loth  to  depart ; 
but  the  instant  he  saw  this  great  salvation,  he  was  in 
haste  to  be  gone.  Sometimes,  in  pacing  the  shore 
of  that  great  ocean  which  you  are  soon  to  cross, 
solemn  thoughts  have  arisen :  "  Why  this  clinging 
to  mortality?  Why  this  love  of  life,  this  fear  of 
dying?  Can  I  belong  to  Christ,  and  yet  so  depre- 
cate departing  to  be  with  Him  ?  "     But  if  you  are 


62  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

really  His,  He  will  arrange  it  all  most  excellently. 
The  wicked  may  be  driven  away  in  their  sins,  or 
they  may  be  dragged  to  a  dreaded  tribunal ;  but  the 
believer  will  tarry  till  he  can  say,  u  Now,  Lord,  lettest 
thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace."  And  this  the 
Lord  usually  effects  by  loosening  that  chain  which 
held  him  to  this  life,  or  by  presenting  such  a  strong 
attraction  that  the  chain  is  broken  unawares.  The 
summer  before  good  old  Professor  Wodrow  died, 
"  Principal  Stirling's  lady  came  in  to  see  him,"  as 
his  son,  the  historian,  tells  us ;  u  and  he  said  to  her, 
'Mrs  Stirling,  do  you  know  the  place  in  the  new 
kirkyard  that  is  to  be  my  grave  ?  '  She  answered, 
she  did.  l  Then,'  says  he,  i  the  day  is  good,  and  I'll 
go  through  the  Principal's  garden  into  it,  and  take  a 
look  of  it.'  Accordingly,  they  went,  and  when  they 
came  to  the  place,  as  near  as  she  could  guess,  she 
pointed  it  out  to  him,  next  to  Principal  Dunlop  and 
her  own  son  and  only  child.  He  looked  at  it,  and 
lay  down  upon  the  grass,  and  stretched  himself  most 
cheerfully  on  the  place,  and  said,  *  Oh,  how  satisfy- 
ing it  would  be  to  me  to  lay  down  this  carcass  of 
mine  in  this  place,  and  be  delivered  from  my  prison ; 
but  it  will  come  in  the  Lord's  time.' "  *  But  although 
for  more  than  forty  years  this  cheerful  Christian  had 
never  one  day  doubted  his  heavenly  Father's  love, 

*  Life  of  James  Wodrow,  A.M.,  Professor  of  Divinity  in  the  Uni- 
versity of  Glasgow,  p.  183. 


BETHLEHEM,  AND  THE  FIRST  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM.     63 

it  was  not  till  his  own  dear  children  had  gone  before, 
and  till  manifold  infirmities  made  the  flesh  a  burden, 
that  he  felt  thus  eager  to  put  off  the  tabernacle.  That 
was  the  weaning  process.  Nevertheless,  the  Lord 
has  other  ways.  Were  you  prematurely  rending 
the  calyx  which  contains  the  coming  rose  or  lily, 
perhaps  it  would  refuse  to  blow  at  all,  or  at  best  you 
would  only  get  a  crumpled  stunted  flower.  God's 
way  is  better.  With  gushing  summer  He  fills  the 
bud  within ;  with  sap  and  strength  He  makes  it  glad 
at  heart,  till  the  withering  cerement  bursts,  and  the 
ripened  fragrance  floats  through  all  the  air  of  June. 
The  soul  must  be  ripe  within,  and  then  it  easily  puts 
off  this  tabernacle.  And  nothing  matures  it  faster 
for  that  immortal  expansion  than  an  abundant  joy. 
And  just  as,  after  a  continuance  of  cold  and  gloomy 
day3,  you  have  seen  one  balmy  sun-burst  let  loose 
whole  fleets  of  waiting  blossoms — so  a  single  bright 
incident,  one  smile  from  Jehovah's  countenance,  will 
be  the  propitious  moment  when  the  soul  would  gladly 
quit  the  body  of  sin,  and  breathe  the  better  air  for 
ever.  From  the  hour  he  was  shewn  that  gory  ves- 
ture, and  realised  his  Joseph  torn  to  pieces,  Jacob 
had  nothing  to  desire  in  life,  and  knew  no  attraction 
greater  than  the  grave.  And  yet  he  had  not  heart  to 
die.  It  was  not  till  that  amazing  hour  when  he  found 
weeping  on  his  neck  the  child  so  long  lamented,  and 
saw,  in   stalwart  strength   and  regal  grandeur,  tho 


64  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

very  form  which  he  had  so  often  pictured  in  the  lion's 
cranching  jaws,  that  Israel  said  to  Joseph,  "  Now  let 
me  die,  since  I  have  seen  thy  face,  because  thou  art 
yet  alive."  1 1  am  happy.  I  have  nothing  more  to 
wish.  This  gladness  gives  me  strength  to  go.'  And 
so  with  many  of  God's  servants.  Like  Simeon — 
though  perhaps  without  Simeon's  promise — they  are 
waiting  for  something.  They  could  die  happy  if 
they  were  only  more  assured  of  their  interest  in  Christ, 
or  if  they  only  saw  the  good  work  begun  in  some  soul 
very  dear  to  them.  They  would  gladly  depart  if  they 
might  first  witness  some  great  salvation — if  they 
might  only  behold  the  destruction  of  Antichrist,  or 
the  triumph  of  the  Gospel  in  the  world.  Perhaps  in 
His  great  indulgence  the  Lord  grants  the  very  bless- 
ing; but  at  all  events  He  knows  how  to  put  such 
gladness  in  the  heart  that  glory  shall  surround  the 
soul  before  it  has  leisure  to  surmise  that  the  body  is 
dissolved. 

Of  all  these  antidotes  to  death,  there  is  none  like 
Jesus  in  the  arms.  Of  all  those  attractions  which 
charm  the  spirit  into  everlasting  life,  there  is  none 
like  the  desire  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ.  That 
we  may  understand  it,  let  us  pray  for  the  Holy  Spirit, 
who  made  Simeon's  eye  so  perspicacious,  and  Simeon's 
heart  so  warm.  Let  us  seek  to  see  in  .Jesus  what 
Simeon  saw,  and  then  we,  too,  may  feel  what  Simeon 
felt. 


BETHLEHEM,  AND  THE  FIRST  VISIT  TO  JERUSALEM.  65 

Is  Jesus  our  salvation  ?  God  has  prepared  a  feast 
of  fat  things  "before  the  face  of  all  people  ; — have  we 
found  satisfaction  in  the  heavenly  provision  ?  or,  like 
the  rich  one3  of  earth — the  self-righteous,  the  volup- 
tuous, and  the  rationalists  —  are  we  passing  empty 
rway?  In  the  atonement  wrought  out  by  God's 
dear  Son,  do  our  faint  and  sin-hurt  souls  welcome  a 
cordial  like  reviving  wine  ;  and  have  the  Saviour's 
words  of  grace  come  to  our  spirits  like  cold  water  in 
the  desert  to  a  thirsty  soul  ?  Have  we  ever  felt  the 
hunger  after  righteousness  ?  and,  listening  to  Christ's 
holy  words,  have  we  ever  perceived  in  them  a  Divine 
deliciousness  ?  and  feeling  as  if  our  souls  began  to 
live  by  them,  have  we  been  ready  to  exclaim,  "  Lord, 
evermore  give  us  this  bread  ?"  Are  we  satisfied  with 
the  Lord's  Christ,  and  with  his  sin-cleansing,  soul- 
renovating  salvation  ?  We  are  Gentiles  :  Is  Jesus 
our  "light?"  Is  Jesus  our  Sun?  Has  He  shone 
upon  our  path,  and  do  we  now  see  the  way  to  im- 
mortality ?  Has  He  revealed  to  us  the  Father,  and 
we  who  once  sat  in  darkness,  do  we  now  see  God  as 
holy,  yet  forgiving  ;  as  righteous,  and  yet  reconciled  ? 
Is  Jesus  our  Lodestar?  Do  we  love  Him?  Do 
we  eye  Him  ?  On  the  deep,  do  we  steer  by  Him  ? 
In  the  desert,  do  we  direct  our  steps  by  Him  ? 
Arc  His  wishes  law  to  us?  Is  His  pattern  our 
incentive?  II13  "well  done"  our  ample  recom- 
pense?    And  has  Jesus  made  us  luminous?     Are  we 


bb  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

radiant  with  grace  and  truth  received  from  His  ful- 
ness? Does  His  spirit  shine  in  us?  Do  those  that 
know  our  meekness,  and  charity,  and  zeal,  and  courage, 
take  knowledge  of  us  that  we  have  been  with  Jesus  ? 

The  last  sand  from  Time's  hour-glass 

Shall  sooii  disappear ; 
And  like  vapour  shall  vanish 

This  old-rolling  sphere. 

Off  the  floor,  like  the  chaff-stream 

In  the  dark  windy  day, 
From  the  fan  of  destruction 

Shall  suns  drift  away  : 

And  the  meteors  of  glory 

Which  wilder  the  wise, 
Only  gleam  till  we  open 

In  true  worlds  our  eyes. 

But  aloft  in  God's  heaven 

There  blazes  a  Star, 
And  I  live  whilst  I'm  watching 

Its  light  from  afar. 

From  its  lustre  immortal 

My  soul  caught  the  spark, 
Which  shall  beam  on  undying 

When  the  sunshine  is  dark. 
So  transforming  its  radiance, 

Its  strength  so  benign, 
The  dull  clay  burns  a  ruby 

And  man  grows  divine. 
To  the  zenitli  ascended 

From  Joseph's  dark  tomb, 
Star  of  Jesse  !  so  rivet 

My  gaze  'midst  the  gloom  ; 

That  thy  beauty  imbibing 

My  dross  may  refine, 
And  in  splendour  reflected 

I  burn  and  I  shine. 


Cjre  Wfomm, 

Beautiful  were  the  bowers  where  man  woke  up  to 
existence,  and  nothing  could  be  lovelier  than  the 
scene  destined  to  prove  the  decisive  battle-field  of 
human  history.  The  representatives  of  our  race  had 
great  advantages.  They  were  strong  in  spirit.  To 
one  another  they  were  bound  by  fondest  affection, 
and  their  Creator  was  their  companion  and  friend. 
They  had  not  the  least  cloud  on  their  conscience,  nor 
the  slightest  infirmity  in  their  frame.  They  were 
healthy,  and  holy,  and  happy.  The  stake  was  im- 
mense, and  the  interests  involved  were  enormous. 
The  stake  was  two  worlds,  and  the  depending  in- 
terests were  a  hundred  generations.  But  though  all 
was  so  favourable;  though  every  motive  was  so 
urgent,  and  the  means  of  resistance  so  great,  no  defeat 
could  be  more  dire  and  disastrous.  Heaven  was  for- 
feited, and  earth  was  enslaved.  The  vanquished 
combatants  became  the  prey  of  the  victor,  and  all 
their  descendants  were  thenceforward  the  captives  of 
Satan,  given  over  to  the  bondage  of  corruption. — 


68  EARLY   INCIDENTS. 

An  overthrow  which  was  mainly  owing  to  the 
tremendous  power  of  the  adversary.  Originally  one 
of  the  mightiest  of  created  beings,  he  had  fallen  from 
his  high  estate,  and,  retaining  most  of  his  strength 
and  intelligence,  he  had  become  the  enemy  of  God 
and  all  goodness.  For  the  ends  of  Infinite  Wisdom, 
along  with  his  associate  angels,  allowed  a  temporary 
range,  he  was  devoting  the  interval  to  the  perpetra- 
tion of  all  the  evil  which  malice  could  suggest  or  craft 
could  carry  through ;  and  in  the  progenitors  of  a 
new  and  noble  family  he  found  a  target  on  which  he 
resolved  to  spare  no  arrows — a  specimen  of  the 
Creator's  handiwork,  which  he  hoped  and  vowed  to 
demolish.  His  plans  were  skilfully  laid ;  and,  partly 
by  a  cunning  ambush,  and  partly  by  a  stroke  of 
astounding  audacity,  he  conquered,  first  the  one  and 
then  the  other  ;  and,  as  he  retreated  from  the  scene, 
a  momentary  exultation  swelled  his  fiendish  breast ; 
for  snakes  were  hissing  and  beasts  of  prey  were  roar- 
ing; there  was  poison  in  the  streams,  and  sulphur  in 
the  air;  there  was  mildew  on  the  flowers,  and  a 
creeping  death  through  all  the  garden ;  whilst — rarest 
joy  to  his  devil's  heart ! — the  joint-partners  of  Para- 
dise were  upbraiding  one  another,  and  as,  in  anger, 
and  shame,  and  terror,  they  skulked  into  the  shade, 
those  to  whom  their  Maker  had  so  lately  been  their 
chiefest  joy,  were  wishing  that  there  were  no  God 
at  all. 


THE  WILDERNESS.  69 

"  For  this  purpose  the  Son  of  God  was  manifested, 
that  he  might  destroy  the  works  of  the  devil."  To 
spoil  the  spoiler,  to  destroy  destruction,  and  to  lead 
captive  captivity,  was  His  God-like  enterprise ;  and 
we  are  now  come  to  the  first  of  those  conflicts  which 
are  to  end  in  overturning  the  empire  of  Apollyon. 
Adam  was  a  champion,  and  so  was  Christ.  Each  re- 
presented a  race.  Adam  represented  mankind  ;  Christ 
represented  His  Church,  or  humanity  redeemed.  And 
just  as  in  the  old  heroic  times,  it  was  not  unusual  for 
the  leaders  of  opposing  hosts  to  challenge  one  another, 
and  fight  out  the  quarrel  in  single  combat,  whilst  either 
army  looked  on ;  so  now,  in  the  history  of  redemp- 
tion, we  are  arrived  at  another  of  these  single-handed 
encounters,  which  makes  the  opening  of  the  Gospels 
as  solemn  and  eventful  as  the  outset  of  the  Bible. 

No  sooner  was  Jesus  baptized  than  the  Spirit  bore 
Him  away  to  the  desert,  and  on  very  purpose  that  He 
should  engage  in  this  combat.  "  Then  was  Jesus  led 
up  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness,  to  be  tempted  of 
the  devil."  For  this  the  time  was  the  fittest,  when 
He  was  newly  designated  to  His  high  office,  and 
before  He  had  entered  on  its  manifold  engagements ; 
and,  we  may  add,  no  time  of  spiritual  preparation 
could  be  fitter,  than  when  the  voice  of  complacent 
Deity  still  lingered  in  His  ear,  and  His  soul  wa3 
still  rejoicing  in  that  oil  of  gladness  with  which  He 
had  been  anointed  above  all  His  fellows. 


70  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

Wherever  the  desert  was,  it  must  have  been  a  very 
lonely  place ;  for  Mark  tells  us,  "  He  was  with  the 
wild  beasts."  What  a  contrast  to  the  lot  of  the  first 
Adam  does  this  single  coincidence  suggest!  Here 
are  the  wild  beasts,  and  here  is  one  in  God's  own 
image — and  these  dumb  creatures  know  Him.  It  is 
the  lion's  den  and  the  mountain  of  leopards,  but 
night  by  night  the  pilgrim  lays  Him  down  and  takes 
His  quiet  sleep  fearing  no  evil :  and  in  the  day-time, 
assured  by  His  mild  aspect,  the  conies  of  the  cliff 
gambol  at  His  feet,  and  the  rock-pigeon  circles  in 
fond  gyrations  round  that  attractive  gentleness  on 
whom  the  celestial  dove  so  lately  rested.  But  except 
this  homage  of  the  mute  creation,  there  is  nothing  that 
looks  like  Eden;  no  fragrant  alcove,  no  woodland 
songsters,  no  murmuring  rills,  no  ripe  clusters  drop- 
ping into  earth's  green  lap :  but  the  dry  ravines,  and 
the  staring  precipices,  and  the  burning  sand,  pinnacles 
blasted  by  the  sirocco  and  glazed  by  the  lightning — 
the  haunt  of  the  satyr  and  the  nest  of  the  vulture — 
arid,  calcined,  hot — the  embers  of  a  world  in  ruin,  the 
skeleton  from  which  the  paradise  has  been  torn  off  and 
hurled  away. 

But  here,  amidst  the  silence,  Jesus  found  a  sacred 
occupation  for  the  six  successive  weeks.  Keleased 
from  the  toils  of  Nazareth,  and  from  its  interruptions, 
He  had  continuous  leisure  to  meditate  on  the  work 
given  Him  to  do,  and  the  Son  of  man  became  familiar 


THE  WILDERNESS.  71 

with  those  high  thoughts  which  had  ever  been 
habitual  to  the  Son  of  God.  Doubtless,  prophetic 
Scripture  extended  its  panorama  to  His  eye,  and  one 
by  one  He  pondered  those  things  concerning  Himself 
which  must  now  have  an  end ;  and  for  the  work 
given  Him  to  do  He  fortified  His  willing  soul  by 
every  consideration  which  the  joy  set  before  Him— 
the  glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  man — could 
supply.  Without  intruding  too  far  into  the  seclusion 
of  this  long  Sabbath,  we  believe  the  tuneful  theolo- 
gian has  not  greatly  erred  in  saying  : — 

"  Through  that  unfathomable  treasury 
Of  sacred  thoughts,  and  counsels,  and  decrees, 
Built  in  the  palace  of  eternity, 
And  safely  locked  with  three  massy  keys, 
Whereof  Himself  by  proper  right  keeps  one, 
With  intellectual  lightness  now  he  ran. 

•'  And  there  He  to  His  human  soul  unveil'd 
The  flaming  wonders  of  Divinity ; 
A  sea  through  which  no  seraph's  eye  e'er  sail'd, 
So  vast,  so  high,  so  deep  those  secrets  be. 

(God' 8  nearest  friend  the  soul  of  Jesus  is, 

Whom  he  admits  to  all  his  privacies). 

•*  There  in  an  adamantine  table,  by 
The  hand  of  goodness  fairly  writ, 
He  saw  his  Incarnation's  Mystery, 
The  reasons,  wonders,  and  the  ways  of  it : 
Then  freely  ranged  His  contemplation,  from 
His  scorned  cradle  to  His  guarded  tomb."  * 

For  most  of  the  period,  the  absorption  of  His  mind 
marie  llim  independent  of  flic  body;  but  "when  he 
•  Beaumont's  "  Psyche,"  (1702)  canto  ix.  145-7. 


72  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

had  fasted  forty  days  and  forty  nights,  he  was  after- 
ward an  hungered."     He  found  Himself  weak  and 
exhausted,  and  had  there  "been  a  field  of  standing 
corn,  or  a  fig-tree — nay,  had  there  been  the  Baptist's 
locusts  and  honey — He  would  doubtless  have  taken 
food  and  sustained  His  fainting  soul.    And  just  at  this 
instant  there  joined  Him  a  stranger — the  first  He  had 
seen  in  this  desolate  spot — and  made  a  suggestion. 
Not  improbably  in  the  guise  of  a  holy  hermit,  pos- 
sibly assuming  to  be  one  of  John's  disciples,  who,  in 
the  eagerness  of  his  devotion,  had  followed  the  Mes- 
siah into  His  retirement,  and  was  at  last  rejoiced  to 
overtake  Him  ;  he  pitied  His  emaciation,  and  said,  "  If 
thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  command  that  these  stones 
be  made  bread."     It  was  the  devil  in  disguise.     He 
had  his  doubts  whether  Jesus  were  indeed  the  Son  of 
God,  and  the  fiery  dart  was  barbed  at  either  end.     If 
Jesus  were  not  the  Son  of  God,  He  would  be  very  apt 
to  try ;  and  failing  to  make  loaves  from  the  stones, 
Satan's  anxiety  would  be  ended  ;  the  Prince  of  Dark- 
ness still  might  keep  his  goods  in  peace.     On  the 
other  hand,  if  Jesus  were  indeed  God's  Son,  what 
could  be  a  simpler  expedient  ?     Surely  His  heavenly 
Father  had  forgotten  Him.     No   manna  had  fallen 
from  the  sky  ;  no  raven  had  brought  Him  bread  and 
flesh  ; — no,  never  once  all  these  forty  evenings.    If  not 
speedily  relieved,  He  must  sink  and  die ;   and  then 
what  would  become  of  ali  I  i  is  projects  ?     If  He  was 


THE  WILDERNESS.  73 


to  be  the  Saviour  of  others,  it  was  His  first  duty  to 
preserve  His  own  life  ;  and  how  could  He  do  this  in  a 
way  more  innocent  or  more  worthy  of  His  own  exalted 
origin  ?  See  these  stony  fragments — these  petrified 
cakes  of  bread;  they  invite  you  to  transform  them  ;  you 
have  but  to  say  the  word,  and  lo  !  you  have  instantly 
spread  for  yourself  a  table  in  the  wilderness. 

Nothing  could  have  been  easier ;  but  that  simple 
thing  would  have  stopped  the  world's  salvation.  It 
would  have  been  the  tragedy  of  Eden  re-enacted — 
the  story  of  the  Forbidden  Fruit  repeated.  Nothing 
could  have  been  easier;  and  He  who  a  few  days  after 
made  water  into  wine,  could  have  given  the  command, 
and  nectar  would  have  foamed  from  the  crag,  and  a 
board  laden  with  the  rarest  viands  would  have  risen 
from  the  ground.  But,  in  that  case,  the  bread  which 
came  down  from  heaven  would  have  been  recalled, 
and  this  world  of  empty  hungry  souls  must  have  been 
left  to  pine  and  perish.  In  doing  it,  in  using  for  His 
own  relief  those  miraculous  powers  which  He  held  for 
a  specific  purpose,  He  would  have  renounced  the  form 
of  a  servant,  and  would  have  violated  a  great  law,  on 
which  the  whole  of  His  incarnate  history  proceeded. 
That  law  left  all  the  circumstances  of  His  outward 
lot  to  be  determined  by  His  Father's  good  pleasure; 
and  just  as  He  never  used  for  His  own  comfort  those 
urccs  which  were  the  constant  enrichment  of 
others — as  in  subsequent  days  He  never  bade  foun- 


74  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

tains  gush  for  the  assuagement  of  His  thirst,  nor  over- 
canopied  with  a  miraculous  shelter  His  own  houseless 
head — as  He  did  not,  when  surrounded  by  priestly 
myrmidons,  give  the  signal  to  angelic  legions,  nor 
startle  the  mocking  crowd  by  descending  from  the 
cross — so  now  He  would  neither  astonish  the  tempter, 
nor  outrun  the  course  of  God's  Providence  by  sum- 
moning a  repast  from  the  dust  of  the  desert.  Recall- 
ing that  passage  where  Moses  tells  Israel  how,  in  re- 
gions where  corn  never  grew  and  flock  never  fed,  the 
Most  High  had  regaled  them  with  feasts  from  the 
firmament,  He  reminded  His  specious  adviser  that  the 
fiat  of  Jehovah  is  sustenance  as  sure  as  the  produce 
of  the  fields.  Like  the  dexterous  and  scarcely  percep- 
tible movement  of  the  skilful  swordsman,  the  text  at 
once  transfixed  the  temptation,  and  the  adversary 
reeled  back  when  reminded,  "  Man  shall  not  live  by 
bread  alone,  but  by  every  word  that  proceedeth  out 
of  the  mouth  of  God." 

Such  was  the  first  temptation,  and  such  was  its 
success — a  success  very  different  from  that  subtile 
insinuation  which  opened  the  fatal  parley  under  the 
Tree  of  Knowledge,  "  Yea,  and  hath  God  said,  Ye 
shall  not  eat  of  every  tree?"  Here,  there  was  no 
surprise,  no  hesitation,  no  encouragement  to  follow  up 
the  hinted  doubt  by  a  bold  denial ;  but  like  a  flaming 
missile  whJch  drops  into  a  vacuum,  and  instantly  ex- 
pires, that  fiery  dart  found  nothing  in  the  holy  sod 


THE  WILDERNESS.  75 

of  Jesus ;  and  before  it  had  time  to  smoulder  into  a 
wrong  desire,  or  the  smallest  spark  of  sin,  the  fire  was 
out,  the  dart  was  dead — the  temptation  never  tempted. 
This  first  incident  may  teach  us  the  subtilty  of 
Satan.  There  can  be  little  doubt,  we  think,  that  in 
the  first  instance  the  tempter  came,  if  not  as  an  abso- 
lute angel  of  light,  at  least  in  some  harmless  form, 
and  with  friendly  professions.  Whether  "  the  aged 
man,  in  rural  weeds,"  whom  our  great  bard  has  pic- 
tured— or  the  "  old  man  his  devotions  singing,"  whom 
an  earlier  poet*  represents  as  "  lowting  low  with 
prone  obeisance  and  curtsey  kind  " — or,  as  we  have 
ventured  to  suggest,  some  modest  and  ingenuous- 
looking  inquirer — there  was  assuredly  nothing  in  his 
aspect  to  alarm  suspicion,  or  draw  from  the  horrified 
beholder,  a  "  Satan,  avaunt !  "  And  if  his  mien  was 
plausible,  his  speech  was  smooth.  Along  with  his 
desire  to  identify  the  Saviour,  he  wished  still  more  to 
stagger  His  faith ;  and  such  is  the  audacity  of  him, 
who,  if  possible,  would  deceive  the  very  elect,  that 
on  this  occasion. he  sought  to  make  the  very  Christ 
an  infidel.  "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God !  "  <  Jf  that 
was  a  true  testimony  which  you  received  at  Jordan — 
if  you  believe  that  voice  which  you  so  lately  heard 
from  heaven,  though  present  appearances,  metl links, 
belie  it — if  you  really  believe  yourself  to  be  the  be- 
loved Son  of  God,  command  these  stones  to  be  made 
•  Giles  Fletcher. 


76  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

bread.'  And  yet,  though  the  blasphemy  was  so  bold 
that  you  would  fancy  it  must  have  affrighted  its 
author,  it  did  not  disturb  his  composure,  nor  did  it 
agitate  his  mind  so  as  to  interfere  with  his  cunning. 
And  although  to  the  Prince  of  Darkness  it  was  a 
critical  moment,  and  not  impossibly  might  hurl  him 
into  an  instantaneous  and  deeper  perdition,  such  self- 
control  had  long  practice  in  all  atrocities  given  him, 
that  he  was  able  to  enter  on  the  awful  experiment 
without  any  visible  tremor,  and  could  put  forth  his 
suggestion  with  all  the  naivete  of  innocence,  and  all 
the  kindness  of  anxious  compassion. 

And  not  to  say  that  the  villany  is  worst  which  is 
the  most  graceful  and  accomplished,  the  temptation  is, 
to  a  religious  or  respectable  man,  the  most  dangerous, 
which  solicits  him  to  the  doing  of  some  little  thing. 
Dr  A.  Clarke  had  a  very  attentive  hearer,  who  was 
often  much  affected  by  the  Word,  but  who  never 
could  find  peace  in  believing.  At  last  he  turned  ill, 
and  after  many  interviews,  Dr  Clarke  said,  "  Sir,  it  is 
not  often  that  God  deals  thus  with  a  soul  so  deeply 
humbled  as  yours,  and  so  earnestly  seeking  redemp- 
tion through  the  blood  of  His  Son.  There  must 
be  a  cause  for  this."  The  gentleman  raised  himself 
in  bed,  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  minister,  told 
how,  years  ago,  taking  his  voyage  to  England,  he 
saw  some  merchants  of  the  place  give  the  captain  a 
bag   of  dollars   to   carry   to  a   correspondent.      He 


THE  WILDERNESS.  77 

marked  the  captain's  carelessness  in  leaving  it  rolling 
on  the  locker  day  after  day,  and,  for  the  purpose  of 
frightening  him,  he  hid  it.  No  inquiry  was  made, 
and  on  arriving  at  their  destination,  the  merchant 
still  retained  it,  till  it  should  be  missed.  At  last  the 
parties  to  whom  it  was  consigned  inquired  for  it,  and 
an  angry  correspondence  commenced ;  hearing  of 
which  the  gentleman  got  frightened,  and  resolved  to 
keep  his  secret.  The  captain  was  thrown  into  prison, 
and  died.  "  Guilt,"  added  the  dying  man,  "  had  by 
this  time  hardened  my  mind.  I  strove  to  be  happy 
by  stifling  my  conscience  with  the  cares  and  amuse- 
ments of  the  world — but  in  vain.  I  at  last  heard 
you  preach ;  and  then  it  was  that  the  voice  of  God 
broke  in  on  my  conscience,  and  reasoned  with  me  of 
righteousness,  and  of  judgment  to  come.  Hell  got 
hold  upon  my  spirit :  I  have  prayed ;  I  have  deplored ; 
I  have  agonised  at  the  throne  of  mercy,  for  the 
sake  of  Christ,  for  pardon ;  but  God  is  deaf  to  my 
prayer,  and  casts  out  my  petition :  there  is  no  mercy 
for  me  ;  I  must  go  down  into  the  grave  unpardoned, 
unsaved."  The  captain's  widow  was  still  alive,  and 
to  her  and  her  children  Dr  Clarke  was  the  medium  of 
paving  over  the  sum,  witli  compound  interest,  obtain- 
ing an  acknowledgment,  which  he  kept  till  his  dying 
day ;  and  soon  after,  the  conscience-stricken  penitent 
died  in  peace,  having  obtained  the  hope  of  pardon. 
But   the  incident  illustrates  the  subtilty  of  Satan, 


78  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

The  man  was  respectable,  and  had  it  been  put  t6 
him,  "  Are  you  capable  of  stealing  ?  Do  you  think 
you  could  commit  a  murder?  Are  you  one  that 
could  allow  an  innocent  man  to  languish  in  prison 
for  your  crime,  and  go  down  to  the  grave  covered 
with  infamy,  for  a  fault  which,  not  he,  but  you  com- 
mitted?" "Is  thy  servant  a  dog?"  would  have 
been  the  indignant  reply  to  the  revolting  suggestion. 
But  for  fine-grained  timber,  for  oaks  and  cedars,  the 
devil  has  sharp  wedges,  as  well  as  coarser  instru- 
ments for  ignoble  natures;  and  here  the  edge  was 
very  fine :  a  trick — a  practical  jest — a  frolic — but  a 
frolic  which,  like  many  fools'  firebrands,  ended  in  a 
sad  conflagration  ;  in  theft  and  murder,  in  orphanage 
and  widowhood,  in  the  ruin  of  a  reputation,  and  in 
the  misery  and  remorse  of  the  perpetrator. 

As  a  set-off,  we  may  mention  a  simple  incident  in 
the  life  of  a  pious  servant.  She  was  in  a  family 
where  next  to  nothing  was  given  for  religious  or 
charitable  objects ;  and  one  morning,  in  arranging 
one  of  the  rooms,  she  found  a  bag  containing  a  num- 
ber of  guineas.  The  temptation  instantly  occurred, 
"  Should  not  I  take  two  of  these  gold  pieces  ?  I 
could  get  silver  for  them,  and  I  know  several  poor 
people  who  stand  in  great  need  of  some  assistance. 
But  if  I  do  not  give  it  to  them,  I  am  sure  that  not  One 
farthing  of  the  money  will  ever  go  that  way."  It  was 
a  plausible  suggestion — for  her  object  was  benevo- 


THE  WILDERNESS.  *«9 

lent;  and  as  she  went  on  with  her  work  she  still 
thought  of  the  gold  pieces  and  the  shivering  poor, 
till  she  made  up  her  mind  that  to  take  them  was 
perfectly  right.  With  this  view  she  was  returning 
to  the  bag,  when  these  words  of  God  rushed  into  her 
memory,  "I  hate  robbery  for  burnt-offering;"  and, 
scared  away  by  this  opportune  scripture,  the  tempta- 
tion fled,  and  the  poor  servant  escaped  as  a  bird  from 
the  snare  of  the  fowler.*  She  had  the  advantage  of 
being  not  only  respectable  but  religious,  and  He  who 
on  this  occasion  rescued  her  from  the  snare  of  the 
devil,  kept  her  by  His  mighty  power  to  an  honoured 
old  age  and  a  joyful  departure.  For  her  escape  this 
humble  disciple  was  indebted  to  the  self-same  weapon 
which  the  Captain  of  her  salvation  wielded  in  the 
wilderness — that  sword  of  the  Spirit  which  is  the 
Word  of  God. 

Jesus  greatly  needed  bread,  but  the  tempter  dared 
not  hint  to  Him  to  procure  it  by  means  of  fraud  or 
violence.  The  utmost  he  could  hope  was  that,  wearied 
out  with  long  waiting,  lie  might  be  induced  to  help 
Him -elf,  and,  instead  of  trying  to  live  any  longer  on 
the  Father's  mere  promise,  that  He  might  adopt  a  sug- 
gestion which  would  appease  His  hunger  and  injure 
no  one.  And  as  it  is  this  u  bread  "  which  forms  our 
great  necessity,  so  it  is  to  unbelieving  and  unchristian 
ways  of  procuring  it  that  we  are  mainly  tempted. 
•  "Jean  Smith."    By  the  Rev.  J.  Morison,  Port-Ghvsgow. 


80  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

The  devil  does  not  say  to  us,  "  Drill  a  hole  in  yonder 
jeweller's  shutter :  forge  a  bank-note :  knock  down  a 
passenger  and  steal  his  purse;"  but  he  says,  "You 
must  live,  and  in  order  to  live  you  must  have  bread. 
You  have  tried  every  way,  but  God  has  done  nothing 
for  you.  This  waiting  won't  do — you  must  see  to 
yourself.  Suppose  you  take  a  ticket  in  the  lottery, 
or  try  your  luck  at  cards  or  billiards?  Or  what 
would  you  say  to  open  a  public  house,  or  take  shares 
in  a  Sunday  tavern  ?  You  have  a  fine  voice ;  you 
might  sing  in  the  choir  of  a  Popish  chapel.  You 
have  a  turn  for  recitation ;  I  have  seen  many  a  worse 
actor  on  the  stage."  And  in  this  way,  by  making  the 
bread  that  perisheth  the  prime  necessity,  and  the  soul 
a  thing  quite  secondary,  many  have  been  tempted  to 
gamble,  to  borrow  from  their  employer's  till,  to  open 
shop  on  Sunday,  to  use  the  balances  of  deceit,  to 
forge,  to  purloin,  to  peculate — till  at  last,  entangled  by 
snare  upon  snare,  they  sank  down  reprobate  and  reck- 
less, disgusted  with  this  world,  and  despairing  of  the 
next  one,  scarcely  caring,  and  never  hoping  to  burst 
that  bond  of  iniquity  in  which  the  devil  leads  them 
captive  at  his  will. 


PART  IL 

Foiled  in  one  stratagem,  the  tempter  instantly  tried 
another ;  and  that  other  was  not  only  necessitated 
but  was  most  likely  suggested  by  the  failure  of  the 
first.  In  his  dealings  with  mankind,  the  devil  had 
so  often  found  virtues  leaning  to  frailty's  side — he 
had  reaped  so  many  of  his  greatest  successes  by 
pressing  good  points  to  an  inordinate  extreme,  that 
he  hoped  to  extract  some  sin  from  the  excessive  faith 
of  Jesus.  It  would  appear  the  greatest  delight  of 
the  incarnate  Son  to  depend  on  the  love  and  power  of 
His  heavenly  Father;  might  He  not  be  induced  to 
carry  that  dependence  too  far,  and  so  render  it  not 
devout  but  presumptuous  ?  Was  there  no  fine  stroke 
which  would  convert  this  faith  into  fanaticism  ?  Ac- 
cordingly, the  scene  was  changed ;  and  no  longer  in 
the  waste  and  howling  wilderness,  they  found  them- 
selves in  the  Holy  City  and  on  the  battlements  of 
the  Temple.  Looking  down  from  the  dizzy  elevation, 
they  had  a  full  view  of  all  the  worshippers  ;  and  His 


82  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

assiduous  attendant  at  once  suggested  to  the  Saviour 
that  He  should  cast  Himself  down  into  their  midst. 
1  You  are  the  Son  of  God  ?  You  are  about  to  begin 
your  ministry  ?  Where  more  fitly  can  you  commence 
it,  than  here  in  God's  own  house?  And  in  what 
manner  more  striking  can  you  make  your  first  mani- 
festation to  Israel,  than  just  by  floating  down,  from 
the  clouds,  as  it  would  look,  into  the  centre  of  that 
throng  ?  The  Messenger  of  the  Covenant  would  then, 
indeed,  be  suddenly  come  to  His  temple,  and  instant 
acclamations  would  welcome  the  Heaven-descended 
Messiah.'  Further,  having  in  the  previous  encounter 
not  only  detected  Jesus'  faith  in  God,  but  His  fond- 
ness for  Scripture,  with  wonderful  adroitness  the 
tempter  turns  it  to  his  purpose — not  merely  assail- 
ing what  he  suspected  to  be  the  weak  point,  but 
plying  that  point  with  what  he  deemed  the  most 
effective  weapon.  l  Your  trust  in  God  is  wonderful. 
Such  is  your  confidence  in  His  promises  that  you 
would  not  help  yourself  to  food,  for  fear  of  shewing 
doubt  or  impatience.  You  spoke  as  if  you  could  sub- 
sist on  these  promises.  If  they  will  do  for  food,  they 
will  surely  do  for  wings.  Here  is  an  opportunity  of 
shewing  your  sincerity.  2"  say  to  you,  cast  Thyself 
down  ;  and  God  says  He  shall  give  His  angels  charge 
concerning  thee,  and  in  their  hands  they  shall  bear 
Thee  up.  There  is  no  escape.  If  you  be  the  Son 
of  God,  you  must  give  me  this  sign.     The  promise  is 


THE  WILDERNESS.  83 

buoyant.  The  air  teems  with  angels  ;  and  up-borne 
in  their  hands  you  will  not  hurt  your  foot  on  the 
pavement.' 

Need  we  say  how  alien  from  the  entire  genius  of 
Christ's  procedure  such  a  demonstration  would  have 
been  ?  Radiant  with  Divine  energy  as  He  was,  He 
veiled  His  glory,  and  reserved  His  resources ;  and  even 
when  in  after  days  a  wonder  was  wrought,  the  most 
wonderful  tiling  was  the  simplicity  with  which  it  trans- 
pired. 80  little  was  done  for  effect,  so  little  of  scenic 
glare  or  intentional  display  was  there  in  the  miracles 
of  Jesus,  that  His  familiar  attendants  saw  Him  con- 
stantly opening  blind  eyes,  healing  incurables,  and 
raising  the  dead,  without  feeling  as  if  aught  very 
strange  were  taking  place.  Not  only  had  they  come 
to  regard  Him  as  one  from  whom  such  things  pro- 
ceeded spontaneously,  and  very  much  as  things  of 
course,  but  He  had  a  way  of  doing  them  which,  al- 
though it  added  to  their  eventual  sublimity,  lessened 
their  eclat  at  the  moment.  Like  Himself  and  His 
kingdom,  Christ's  miracles  came  without  observation. 
There  was  nothing  dramatic  or  explosive  about  them. 
No  trumpet  sounded  beforehand — no  flush  of  exulta- 
tion followed  ;  but  whilst  the  lame  man  was  yet  leap- 
ing,  and  the  crowd  was  still  gazing,  Jesu3  went  on 
Hia  w  ay.  1 1  i>  mighty  deeds  were  not  the  rare  efforts 
borrowed  power,  but  the  forth-letting  of  a  fami- 
liar and  redundant  omnipotence;  and  being  wrought 


84  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

by  a  Divine  Personage  in  a  holy  disguise,  He  had 
rather  to  restrain  than  exhibit  His  resources.  Con- 
vincing and  endearing,  they  did  not  dazzle  nor  ex- 
cite ;  and,  in  short,  like  the  flat  of  the  Creator,  which 
might  any  moment  add  a  new  lily  to  the  field,  or  a 
new  lamp  to  the  firmament,  the  mighty  deeds  of 
Jesus  were  neither  noisy  portents  nor  ostentatious 
prodigies,  but  miracles — the  stately  emanations  of  that 
mighty  Will  which  does  nothing  for  display,  and  to 
which  the  hosannahs  of  a  crowded  temple,  or  the 
shouts  of  Morning  Stars,  would  be  alike  a  poor 
requital. 

To  introduce  Himself  to  the  Jewish  people  by  a 
flight  from  on  high,  would  have  been  to  commence 
on  a  key-note  entirely  out  of  unison  with  His  lowly 
ministry ;  and,  besides,  it  would  have  pandered  to 
that  taste  for  the  marvellous,  which  prefers  to  a  God- 
like miracle  a  vulgar  prodigy.  Satan  knew  this,  and 
so  knew  the  Saviour.  But  instead  of  arguing  the 
question,  the  Captain  of  salvation  fell  back  on,  "  Thus 
it  is  written."  Scripture  is  the  interpreter  of  Scrip- 
ture ;  and  just  as  one  Divine  perfection  may  set  limits 
to  another — as  God's  wisdom  may  be  the  limit  of  His 
power — as  His  truth  or  holiness  may  be  the  limit  of 
His  benevolence — so,  in  Scripture,  one  truth  may  be 
the  limit  of  another ;  or,  as  in  the  case  before  us,  a 
precept  may  be  the  limit  of  a  promise.  It  is  true 
God  gives  to  His   angels  a  charge   concerning  His 


THE  WILDERNESS.  85 

saints,  but  then  He  gives  his  saints  a  charge  con- 
cerning themselves ;  and  if  the  angels  are  not  to  for- 
get the  saints,  neither  are  the  saints  to  tempt  the 
Lord  their  God.  Observe  the  condition,  and  the 
result  is  infallible.  Fulfil  you  the  precept,  and  God 
will  fulfil  the  promise.  But  to  leap  from  this  pin- 
nacle when  there  is  no  end  to  be  answered — to  spring 
into  the  air  when  it  is  not  God,  but  Satan,  who  gives 
the  command — this  is  to  tempt  Jehovah ;  and  God's 
will  must  be  done,  even  although  the  doing  of  it 
should  look  so  pusillanimous  as  to  provoke  a  sneer 
from  the  devil. 

A  most  instructive  incident,  teaching  us  the  im- 
portance of  comparing  Scripture  with  Scripture.  A 
text  may  be  wrested — witness  the  tempter's  quota- 
tion ;  but  the  Scriptures  cannot  be  broken — witness 
the  Saviour's  retort.  Some  people  split  the  Bible. 
They  set  aside  all  the  precepts,  and  appropriate  all 
the  promises ;  they  cull  out  all  the  doctrines,  and  do 
away  with  all  the  duties;  and  in  this  one-sided 
fashion  they  never  become  the  blessed  and  beautiful 
characters  which  that  Bible  could  make  them.  Like 
those  fjuadrumanous  mimics  of  mankind  whose  hand 
lack-;  an  opposable  finger,  their  thumbless  theology 
goes  on  all  fours,  and  it  bears  the  same  relation  to 
reveals!  religion  as  the  ape  or  the  satyr  bears  to  hu- 
lty.  Others,  again,  select  from  the  Bible  a  series 
of  ethical  maxims;  and,  ignoring  all  which  it  reveals 


«6  f  ABLY  INCIDENTS. 

of  sin  and  the  Saviour,  they  treat  it  as  a  manual  of 
excellent  morality.  Their  model  has  all  the  form 
and  features  which  go  to  constitute  ethical  symmetry 
or  ideal  perfection  ;  and  like  the  strings  or  clock-work 
which  bends  the  limbs  and  opens  and  shuts  the  eyes 
of  such  a  figure,  it  may  not  be  without  impulses  and 
motives  of  its  own  j  but,  as  long  as  it  lacks  a  soul, 
after  all,  it  is  only  an  automaton.  That  character  is 
alone  complete  where  life  developes  in  symmetry — 
where  love  to  God  inspires  the  heart,  and  His  revealed 
will  decides  the  conduct. 

An  instructive  incident,  further,  as  shewing  the 
difference  between  faith  and  fanaticism.  Faith 
listens  to  God's  voice,  and  follows  where  Scripture 
leads  it  by  the  hand.  Fanaticism  has  inward  lights, 
and  mystic  voices,  and  new  revelations,  and  scorns 
the  sober  ways,  the  good  old  paths  of  the  written 
record.  Faith  compares  Scripture  with  Scripture, 
and  with  docile  patience  gathers  from  its  sundry 
places  the  entire  mind  of  the  Spirit.  Fanaticism, 
when  it  deigns  to  consult  the  Word  at  all,  is  proud 
and  precipitate,  and  pouncing  on  the  text  which  serves 
its  turn,  has  no  tolerance  for  any  other  which  would 
restrict  or  expand  its  meaning.  Faith  has  a  creed  of 
many  articles,  and  its  decalogue  has  ten  commands. 
Fanaticism  resolves  morality  into  a  solitary  virtue, 
and  its  orthodoxy  is  summed  up  in  a  single  tenet. 
Such  a  fanatic,  had  he  heard  on  the  temple-roof  a 


THE  WILDERNESS.  87 

whisper  in  his  ear,  "  Cast  thyself  down  hence,"  would 
scarcely  have  waited  to  ascertain  whether  the  voice 
came  from  a  good  spirit  or  a  demon ;  or  had  he 
paused  for  a  moment,  and  then  been  reminded  of  the 
promise,  "  For  he  shall  give  his  angels  charge  con- 
cerning thee,"  he  would  have  felt  it  a  crime  to  hesi- 
tate. But  he  that  believeth  will  not  make  such 
haste ;  and  after  hearing  both  the  suggestion  and  the 
Scripture  proof,  that  great  Believer  to  whom  it  was 
addressed  held  up  to  the  proposal  the  torch  of  truth, 
and  declared  it  presumptuous  and  Heaven-provoking. 
Reader,  try  the  spirits.  Error  is  often  plausible, 
and  the  most  ensnaring  errors  are  those  which  have 
an  obvious  resemblance  to  truth.  Even  though  the 
outside  coating  is  not  brass  but  real  gold,  the  leaden 
coin  is  none  the  less  a  counterfeit;  and,  like  the 
devil's  temptation,  wrapped  up  in  a  Scripture  saying, 
many  false  doctrines  come  now-a-days  with  a  sacred 
or  a  spiritual  glamour  round  them — quoting  texts  and 
uttering  Bible  phrases.  But  the  question  is  not, 
Who  has  got  a  text  on  his  side  ?  but,  Who  has  got 
the  Bible? — not,  Who  can  produce  certain  sentences 
torn  from  their  connexion,  and  reft  of  the  purport 
which  that  connexion  gives  them?  but,  Looking  at 
[iture  in  its  integrity — having  regard  to  its  gene- 
ral drift,  as  well  as  to  the  bearing  of  these  special 
passages— who  is  it  that  makes  the  fairest  appeal  to 
the  statute-book  of  Heaven  ? 


88  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

A  second  time  baffled,  there  remained  another  bolt 
in  the  grim  archer's  quiver.  The  Son-like  confi- 
dence of  Jesus  had  never  faltered;  and  neither  to 
the  left  hand  of  distrust,  nor  to  the  right  hand  of 
presumption,  had  the  fiercest  shocks  been  able  to 
bend  His  columnar  constancy.  The  tactics  were, 
therefore,  changed.  Sudden  surprise  had  failed, 
stratagem  had  failed,  and  plausible  hypocritical 
suggestion  had  failed.  If  the  devil  himself  had 
doubted  the  Sonship  of  the  Saviour,  these  doubts 
were  at  an  end — for  there  is  no  conditional  "  If  thou 
be  "  in  the  last  temptation ;  and  if  he  had  hoped  to 
make  the  Saviour  for  a  moment  question  His  own 
paternity,  that  hope  was  over — for  he  now  leaves  the 
point  in  abeyance.  But  Lucifer  remembered  the 
temptation  which  had  prevailed  with  himself,  when 
u  he  fell  from  service  to  a  throne ; "  and  surmising 
that  the  nobler  the  nature  the  more  likely  it  was  to 
feel  the  attractions  of  glory,  he  thought  he  knew 
what  would  deflect  from  His  orbit  the  Sun  of  Bight- 
eousness  Himself.  Borne  away  to  some  lofty  hill,  a 
magic  prospect  rose  up.  They  saw  the  river  which 
bears  the  wealth  of  mysterious  mountains  to  Egypt's 
green  valley,  and  on  whose  banks  the  Pharaohs 
sleep  grandly  in  their  sphinx-guarded  sepulchres. 
They  saw  the  bright  isles  of  Greece,  on  whose  summits 
white  temples  sparkled,  and  on  whose  strand  the 
bounding   billows   clapped   their   musical  cymbals. 


THE  WILDERNESS.  89 

They  saw  the  Seven  Hills,  and  the  proud  capitol, 
like  an  Atlas,  bending  under  its  mountain  of  marble. 
They  saw  the  pearls  still  deep  in  the  ocean,  and  the 
diamonds  not  yet  dug  from  the  mine.  They  saw 
the  Indian  pagoda  rainbowed  with  gems,  and  the 
Peruvian  sun-temple  with  its  mirrors  of  flashing  gold. 
And  a  mist  of  music  came  floating  up  from  the  glory ; 
and  as  its  murmur  waxed  clearer  and  resolved  into  a 
thousand  tones,  along  with  the  note  of  the  nightin- 
gale came  pulses  of  the  lyre  from  fragrant  Italy ;  from 
yonder  Attic  groves  a  flow  of  silvery  sweetness,  and 
from  that  swarming  forum  words  of  sharp  and  ringing 
energy :  whilst  wafted  from  those  red  Parthian  fields, 
and  louder  than  far-off  Niagara,  rent  the  air  a  long 
loud  shout  of  Roman  victory.  u  All  that  is  mine ; 
and  one  obeisance  will  make  it  yours,"  cried  the 
tempter :  and  as  he  spake,  a  diadem  flamed  on  his 
brow,  and  he  stood  forth  every  inch  a  king.  The 
costliest  bait  ever  flung  at  the  feet  of  Innocence — the 
Man  of  Nazareth  looked  at  it  with  an  eye  that  did 
not  sparkle,  and  a  heart  that  did  not  flutter:  then 
turning  to  the  princely  tempter,  He  exclaimed,  "  Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan :  for  it  is  written,  Thou  shalt 
worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  him  only  shalt  thou 
serve."     Oh,   what   a   smile  from  the  heart  of  the 

her  burst  in  at  these  words  on  the  soul  of  the 
l>c loved  Son  ;  and  what  a  sob  of  triumph  relieved  the 

.ended  breath  of  spectator  angels!     It  was  the 


90  EARLY  INCIDENTS. 

first  great  victory  of  the  Second  Adam.  It  was  the 
turning  of  the  tide  in  the  history  of  our  defeated  and 
enslaved  humanity.  It  was  a  triumph  where  the 
gain  was  all  on  the  side  of  goodness ;  and  from  which 
the  azure  banner  of  the  Eternal  Law  came  back 
without  one  speck  on  its  lustre,  or  a  moment's 
recession  of  its  planted  sign.  It  was  the  great 
enslaver  and  tyrant  defeated,  and  the  earnest  of 
paradise  regained.  '  Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan.  I 
hope  to  see  these  kingdoms  and  all  their  glory  my 
own :  but  I  shall  earn  them,  not  by  doing  homage  to 
the  usurper,  but  by  obedience  to  my  Father — by 
worshipping  the  Lord  my  God.' 

It  was  a  glorious  victory,  and,  reader,  it  was  ours. 
It  was  the  victory  of  our  Head  and  Eepresentative. 
It  was  the  Second  Adam  doing  what  the  first  should 
have  done,  and  so  far  undoing  the  evil  which  he  did. 
It  was  the  scene  in  the  garden  reversed ;  it  was  the 
crime  of  another  Fall  escaped,  and  the  curse  of  Eden 
read  backwards.  It  was  the  embodiment  of  all  evil 
encountered  and  overcome  by  the  Church's  great 
Champion :  encountered  in  those  successive  forms  of 
temptation  which  had  so  often  proved  fatal;  as  the 
sympathising  visitor  with  a  friendly  suggestion — as 
the  scoffing  spectator  with  a  taunting  challenge — as 
the  gross  and  open  seducer  with  the  most  splendid 
lure  ever  offered  to  ambition ;  and  overcome,  not  by 
the  mere  might  of  Omnipotence,  but  by  those  weapons 


THE  WILDERNESS.  91 

which  all  along  had  lain  ready  for  such  exigencies  in 
the  Church's  armoury. 

Blessed  Jesus,  we  thank  Thee !  We  could  not 
have  done  it.  But  Thou  hast  broken  the  snare  of  the 
fowler,  and  along  with  Thee  our  silly  souls  are 
escaped.  0  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  our  adver- 
sary still  goeth  about  seeking  whom  he  may  devour. 
Make  us  aware  of  his  devices.  Bruise  him  under  our 
feet.  Succour  us  when  tempted.  Touched  with  a 
feeling  of  our  infirmities,  Thou  who  wast  in  all  points 
tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin,  let  us  fight 
beneath  Thy  buckler,  and  teach  us  how  to  wield  Thy 
sword — that  sword  of  the  Spirit  which  is  the  Word 
of  God.  Lead  us  not  into  temptation,  but  deliver 
us  from  eviL     Amen. 


trades* 


l   GANA !   THE  WEDDING  FEAST. 
IL    BETHESDA  :    A  REMARKABLE  RECOVEFX 
in.    NAIN :    THE  INTERRUPTED  FUNERAL. 
IV.    GADARA :    THE  DEMONS  EXPELLED. 
V.    THE  DESERT  NEAR  BETHSAIDA  :    THE  MULTITUDE  FEDl 
VL    THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE  \    THE  TEMPEST  STILLED. 
TIL    THE  FAME  OF  JESUS  S    SUCCESSFUL  INTERCESSION. 


Cra:  %\t  ffifc&bmg  JtnL 

By  the  modern  system  of  chapter-divisions,  which 
has  in  some  instances  been  arbitrarily  or  unskilfully 
carried  out,  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  story  of  Cana 
is  cut  in  sunder.  In  other  words,  it  is  to  be  regretted 
that  the  beginning  of  the  second  chapter  of  St  John's 
Gospel  is  so  seldom  read  in  immediate  connexion 
with  the  close  of  the  chapter  preceding. 

Nathanael,  the  u  Israelite  indeed,"  was  a  native  or 
inhabitant  of  Cana.  He  was  convinced  of  the  Messiah- 
ship  of  Jesus  by  the  tokens  of  omniscience  which  the 
words  of  Jesus  conveyed,  and,  pleased  with  the  frank- 
ness of  his  faith,  Jesus  said,  "Because  I  said  unto 
thee,  I  saw  thee  under  the  fig-tree,  believest  thou  ? 
thou  shalt  see  greater  things  than  these.  Verily, 
verily,  I  say  unto  you,  Hereafter  ye  shall  see  heaven 
open,  and  the  angels  of  God  ascending  and  descend- 
ing upon  the  Son  of  man."  Because  I  have  read 
your  thoughts,  and  revealed  your  secret  resting-place 
beneath  the  fig-tree,  you  believe  that  I  am  the  Son  of 
God,  the  King  of  Israel,  for  whom  you  and  your 


96  MIBACLES. 

compatriots  are  now  looking.  But  soon  shall  you 
witness  incidents  more  surprising.  Heaven  is  about 
to  open,  and  its  angels  will  attend  My  bidding.  A 
career  of  wonders  is  about  to  begin,  which  will  shew 
you  that  the  powers  of  a  higher  world  surround  My 
person,  and  that  not  only  all  knowledge  but  all  might 
belongs  to  the  Son  of  man. 

Accordingly,  three  days  after,  at  Cana  of  Galilee, 
Jesus  made  a  commencement  of  His  miracles,  letting 
out  His  latent  power ;  and  in  that  first  flush  of  open- 
ing heaven — in  that  manifestation  of  their  Master's 
glory — the  faith  of  His  disciples  was  confirmed  (John 
ii.  11).  Of  these  disciples,  Nathanael  was  one;  and 
even  if  he  had  not  gone  to  the  marriage  as  one  of  the 
four  or  five  disciples  already  attached  to  Jesus — and 
even  if  we  do  not  suppose  that  it  was  Nathanael's  own 
wedding,  for  the  sake  of  which  Jesus  and  his  disciples 
had  consented  to  tarry  these  three  days  in  Cana — 
there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  good  Israelite  was 
present  on  an  occasion  sure  to  assemble  all  the  nota- 
bilities of  his  native  village,  and  that  in  the  prodigy 
which  astonished  all  the  guests  he  saw  the  first  in- 
stalment of  the  "greater  things"  which  Christ  had 
promised.* 

*  As  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Nathanael  was  present  at  this  com- 
mencement of  miracles,  so  we  are  expressly  told  that  be  was  present  at 
the  miracle  in  which  the  mighty  works  of  the  Saviour  were  concluded 
(John  xxi.  2).  So  amply  was  the  promise  fulfilled,  "  Thou  shalt  see 
greater  things." 


CAN  A  :    THE  WEDDING  FEAST.  97 

Amongst  the  Jews  a  wedding  was  a  joyous  cele- 
bration, of  which  the  festivities  extended  over  many 
days,  and,  besides  friends  and  acquaintances,  the  whole 
neighbourhood  often  came  together.  Whether  on  this 
occasion  there  was  a  greater  concourse  than  their  hosts 
had  expected,  at  all  events,  as  the  feast  proceeded, 
the  mother  of  Jesus  came  to  Him,  and  said,  "  They 
have  no  wine.''  The  very  fact  of  her  resorting  to 
Him  shews  that  Mary  had  not  forgotten  the  sayings 
which  long  ago  she  pondered  in  her  heart,  and  that 
she  felt  no  emergency  could  be  so  great  but  that  means 
of  extrication  were  in  the  power  of  her  wonderful  Son. 
Still  His  answer  appeared  rather  a  repulse  than  a  com- 
pliance— "Woman,  what  is  that  to  thee  and  Me?" 
4  We  are  not  responsible  for  the  supply  of  the  banquet. 
Besides  "  mine  hour  is  not  yet  come."  You  know  that 
I  have  not  yet  commenced  that  course  of  miracles,  one 
of  which  you  now  wish  Me  to  perform.'  There  would, 
however,  seem  to  have  been  something  more  en- 
couraging in  His  aspect  than  in  His  words  ;  for,  as  if 
thoroughly  confident  that  He  was  about  to  interpose, 
Mary  said  to  the  attendants,  "  Whatever  he  desires  be 
sure  you  do  it."  And  He  did  interpose.  At  that  period 
the  Jews  had  carried  to  a  finical  extreme  the  ablu- 
tions of  the  Levities]  Law  ;  and  before  they  would  sit 
n  to  a  meal,  for  fear  they  might  have  contracted 
m  casual  impurity,  they  had  water  poured  over 
their  hands.     To  provide  a  supply  for  such  purposes 


5fO  MIRACLES. 

there  were  on  this  occasion,  placed  either  in  the  ban- 
quet-room, or  somewhere  near  hand,  six  great  am- 
phorae or  water-jars,  and  these  Jesus  bade  the  servants 
fill  with  water  up  to  the  brim.  And  as  soon  as  they 
told  Him  that  the  vessels  were  rilled,  He  bade  them 
pour  out  a  specimen,  and  cany  it  to  the  master  of 
the  ceremonies.  As  soon  as  he  tasted  this  fresh 
supply,  and  perceived  its  exquisite  aroma,  he  said  to 
the  bridegroom  in  whose  house  the  banquet  was  given, 
"The  usual  way  is  to  begin  with  good  wine,  and 
then  come  to  the  inferior  quality  ;  but  thou  hast  kept 
the  good  wine  until  now."  But  the  miracle  thus 
graciously  wrought  to  relieve  the  embarrassment  of 
their  hospitable  entertainers,  not  only  filled  the  wed- 
ding guests  with  amazement,  but,  in  conjunction 
with  the  Baptist's  testimony,  and  the  impressions  of 
their  own  brief  intercourse,  was  a  mighty  confirmation 
to  the  faith  of  Christ's  disciples.  In  the  power  which 
willed  water  into  wine  they  recognised  a  creative 
energy,  and  they  saw  that  to  the  intuitions  of  the 
omniscient  Heart-Searcher,  their  Master  added  the 
resistless  volition  which  speaks  and  it  is  done. 

It  was  a  simple  commencement — the  simple  com- 
mencement of  a  stupendous  history.  It  was  not  such 
a  commencement  as  human  ostentation  would  have 
chosen :  a  rural  hamlet,  a  village  wedding,  a  house 
where  the  owners  were  too  poor  to  provide  for  the 
guests*     A  few  weeks   previously  there   had   been 


CANA:  the  wedding  feast.      •  99 

offered  to  Him  a  nobler  theatre — a  theatre  the  grandest 
which  the  god  of  this  world  could  select.  He  had 
stood  on  a  pinnacle  of  the  temple,  in  the  very  focus 
of  the  faithful,  in  the  midst  of  Jerusalem,  in  the  heart 
of  the  Holy  Land;  and  as  the  worshippers  poured 
into  the  populous  courts,  and  as  far  beneath  His  feet 
He  eyed  spectators,  who  were  themselves  a  spectacle — 
the  men  of  mark,  the  priests  and  scribes,  the  scholars 
and  the  sages  of  the  day,  and  that  multitude  who 
were  daily  expecting  the  advent  of  Messiah ;  it  was 
suggested  to  Him,  Cast  thyself  down  hence,  for  His 
angels  will  up-bear  thee.  Surely  that  would  have 
been  a  worthy  commencement,  a  fit  beginning  of 
miracles, — from  yonder  dizzy  turret  to  glide  down  on 
no  other  pinions  than  His  own  sustaining  will,  and 
astonish  the  assembled  throng  as  if  by  a  descent  from 
the  firmament.  But  dazzling  as  the  demonstration 
would  have  been,  the  Saviour  declined  it;  and  the 
career  which  was  to  end  in  rending  the  rocks  and 
raising  the  dead,  in  eclipsing  the  sun  and  in  bc-dark- 
ening  a  guilty  land — that  career  commenced  in  the 
supernatural  supply  of  a  little  wine  to  a  few  peasants 
at  a  village  festival. 

So  truly  Divine  is  simplicity.  And  like  the  King 
of  heaven,  all  that  is  truly  kingly,  all  that  is  heavenly, 
"  comes  not  with  observation."  That  prodigy  awoke 
no  plaudits  throughout  Palestine;  but  it  attracted 
august   spectators.      "  Heaven "   was   "  open,"  and 


100  MIRACLES. 

in  doing  it,  Immanuel  was  u  seen  of  angels."  It 
astonished  no  philosopher,  no  emperor ;  it  only  con- 
firmed the  faith  of  a  few  fishermen  who  had  become 
disciples  already :  and  yet  it  was  the  first  in  that 
series  of  which  the  Redeemer's  resurrection  and  as- 
cension were  the  last,  and  on  whcse  firm  foundation 
Christianity  stands — the  vast  and  ever-during  fabric. 
It  is  enough  for  the  disciple  to  be  as  his  Master. 
Up  to  that  hour  His  time  was  not  yet  come;  our 
time  is  always  ready.  There  is  not  a  career  of  won- 
ders before  us ;  but  there  is  a  career  of  well-doing. 
Jesus  calls  us  to  glory  and  virtue.  He  bids  us  re- 
ceive and  employ  the  grace  of  the  Comforter.  In 
His  own  name,  and  in  the  strength  of  His  spirit,  as 
sinners  forgiven,  and  as  affectionate  followers  of  the 
forgiving  Saviour,  He  summons  us  to  His  own  high 
calling  of  God-glorifying,  world-bettering  beneficence. 
And,  reader,  for  your  outset  seek  no  far-off  nor  ar- 
duous starting-point.  You  need  ascend  no  pinnacle. 
You.  need  go  up  to  no  Jerusalem.  Let  your  Sabbath  - 
class  or  your  servants  be  your  Cana ;  let  your  fireside 
or  your  tea-table,  this  evening,  be  like  that  banquet- 
room  in  Galilee,  the  beginning  of  your  self-conquests, 
the  commencement  of  a  franker  and  truer  Christianity, 
a  mightier  and  more  assiduous  manifestation  of  youi 
Master's  glory.  Thus,  too,  will  the  water  turn  tc 
wine.  Thus  will  common  life,  brightening  beneath 
the  Saviour's  eye,  begin  to  glow  with  a  sacramenta) 


CANA.  the  wedding  feast.  101 

richness  and  a  heavenly  radiance,  and  ordinary  inci- 
dents and  engagements  will  acquire  a  sacred  relish, 
reminding  you  of  the  great  Transformer.  And  bet- 
ter still:  this  beginning  of  discipleship  will  be  the 
first  step  in  a  progressive  piety — a  Cana  which  will 
be  followed  by  its  own  Gadara,  and  Bethany,  and 
Olivet ;  and  as  you  yourself  see  greater  things  than 
these — as  your  own  faith  confirms,  and  your  own 
devotion  deepens — and  as  you  find  in  the  growing 
consolations  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that  the  Bridegroom 
keeps  His  best  to  the  last — the  disciples  whom  your 
early  fervour  impressed,  and  whom  your  later  faith 
confirmed,  will  feel  that  where  the  glory  is  Im- 
manueFs,  there  are  no  bounds  to  the  manifestation, 
and  that  where  the  water  of  ordinary  life  pours  out 
the  new  wine  of  the  kingdom,  there  is  no  risk  that 
either  goodness  or  comfort  will  ever  run  dry. 

The  miracles  of  Jesus  have  all  a  spiritual  or  ethical 
import.  They  were  not  isolated  portents,  unmeaning 
though  surprising  prodigies.  They  were  u  signs  " — 
miracles  wrought  with  a  purpose,  and  revealing  the 
mind  of  their  Author.  For  example,  in  the  case  be- 
fore us,  which  primarily  illustrates  the  power  of  Jesus, 
and  which  is  a  striking  attestation  of  His  divine 
commission — when  we  look  at  the  circumstances  in 
which  it  is  imbedded — when  we  inquire,  Whatglimpses 
of  Christ's  heart,  what  intimations  of  Christ's  plans 
;n  1  ratal  'loes  it  yield?  we  think  that  we  perceive 


102  MIRACLES. 

a  certain  light  which  it  throws  on  the  nature  of  Christ's 
kingdom,  as  a  kingdom  neither  austere  nor  ascetic, 
and  a  farther  light  which  it  throws  on  Christ's  dis- 
position, as  full  of  delicate  considerateness  and  Divine 
munificence. 

John  the  Baptist  came  neither  eating  nor  drinking. 
Most  likely,  the  forerunner  was  never  at  such  a  feast; 
and  with  his  matted  locks  and  sun-burnt  visage; 
with  his  leather  belt  and  his  hairy  hyke;  with  his 
dish  of  locusts  and  his  cup  of  cold  water — to  say  no- 
thing of  stern,  sequestered  looks  and  unsocial  habits — 
the  second  Elias,  by  his  very  presence,  would  have 
petrified  the  banquet  into  a  stiff  and  silent  ceremony. 
But  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  a  man  of  another  make 
and  mien.  Whilst  in  himself  independent  of  all 
created  joy,  and  whilst  to  the  Lord  of  angels  and  to 
the  Entertainer  of  worlds  it  was  a  deep  condescen- 
sion to  become  the  guest  of  man;  yet  as  the  founder 
of  the  Christian  system  He  fulfilled  all  righteousness, 
and  He  has  left  us  an  example  that  we  should  follow 
His  steps.  And  as  there  was  a  danger  lest  in  subse- 
quent times  men  should  misunderstand — as  even  then 
there  were  Essenes  who  held  that  perfection  consists  in 
abstaining  from  all  the  enjoyments  of  sense,  "Touch 
not,  taste  not,  handle  not  those  things  which  perish 
in  the  using;"  and  as  the  Saviour  foresaw  that  within 
His  own  Church  men  would  arise  forbidding  to  marry 
and  commanding  to  abstain  from  meats  which  God 


CANA  :   THE  WEDDING  FEAST.  103 

has  created  to  be  received  with  thanksgiving — the 
Son  of  man  came  eating  and  drinking.  He  made 
His  entry  on  public  life  at  a  friendly  festival,  and 
pronounced  a  marriage  honourable  in  all,"  by  work- 
ing His  first  miracle  to  promote  the  enjoyment  of  a 
wedding  company.  And  all  through  His  public 
ministry  He  went  on  the  same  principle.  Himself 
so  holy  and  separate  from  sin,  he  cheerfully  accepted 
the  hospitalities  to  which  he  was  invited;  and  not 
only  as  the  guest  of  the  pious  Lazarus  and  the  rigid 
Simeon,  but  by  taking  His  disciples  to  dine  with 
Levi  and  Zaccheus,  to  the  great  scandal  of  the  Phari- 
sees— He  taught  us,  that  separateness  from  sin  is  one 
thing,  and  separation  from  society  another ;  that  the 
pure  religion  which  keeps  us  unspotted  from  the 
world  is  not  the  sanctimoniousness  which,  with  a 
view  to  self-preservation,  secludes  itself,  but  the 
sanctity  which  still  more  effectually  preserves  itself 
in  seeking  its  own  diffusion. 

The  Saviour  sought  to  make  His  disciples  not  non- 
human,  but  holy.  He  came  not  to  alter  human  nature, 
but  to  restore  it.  He  came  to  repair  the  devil's  de- 
struction of  man's  primitive  constitution.  By  be- 
coming il  sh  of  our  flesh,  the  Son  of  God  became  the 
Adam,  and  now  the  Head  of  every  redeemed 
man  in  Christ.  And,  whilst  the  object  of  corrupted 
:ity  is  to  make  us  imperfect  angels,  the  object 
of  the  Redeemer  was  to  make  us  perfect  men.    There 


104  MIRACLES. 

was  nothing  ascetic,  nothing  monastic,  in  all  His 
precepts  or  practice ;  and  of  all  His  natural  goodness, 
of  all  the  cures  He  wrought,  and  all  the  miraculous 
supplies  He  provided,  as  well  as  of  all  the  innocent 
festivities  which,  by  His  presence,  He  sanctified,  the 
great  lesson  wTas,  that  He  had  come  not  to  destroy 
the  flesh,  but  "  to  destroy  sin  in  the  flesh;"  not  to 
make  His  disciples  fasters  and  flagellants,  hermits 
and  recluses,  monks  and  nuns,  hut — what  is  far  more 
difficult,  and  needs  an  exertion  more  Divine — to  make 
them  holy  men  and  holy  women,  pious  householders 
and  God-fearing  guests,  good  servants  and  good 
citizens — such  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  Al- 
mighty as  were  our  first  parents  before  they  fell. 

Far  more  difficult  than  the  anchoret's  separation 
from  the  world  is  the  Christian's  sojourn  in  it ;  and, 
though  rare,  it  is  beautiful  to  see  those  believers  in 
whose  behalf  their  Lord's  intercession  has  evidently 
been  heard,  and  who,  before  they  are  taken  finally 
out  of  the  world,  are  "kept  from  the  evil  in  it;" 
those  men  of  single  purpose  who,  "  whether  they  eat, 
or  drink,  or  whatsoever  they  do,  do  all  to  the  glory 
of  God."  And  as  social  intercourse  is  so  great  a  por- 
tion of  most  men's  existence,  as  the  time  which  is 
not  absorbed  in  business  is  more  of  it  spent  in  seeing 
one  another  than  in  reading  books  or  in  meditation 
and  prayer,  surely  the  act  of  profitable  intercourse 
is  worth  some  study.     And,  without  too  much  strait- 


CANA  :   THE   WEEDING  FEAST.  105 

ening  that  simplicity,  and  unreserve,  and  excursive- 
ness,  which  arc  the  great  charm  of  the  social  circle — 
without  converting  every  meeting  of  friends  into  a 
theological  congress  or  a  scientific  re-union — might 
not  a  great  deal  be  done  to  render  our  incidental 
gatherings  feasts  of  reason,  and  feasts  of  religion  too  ? 
Might  not  recreation  be  secured  without  altogether 
losing  sight  of  intellectual  and  spiritual  improvement? 
Must  wit  prove  fatal  to  wisdom;  an&  is  it  necessary 
that  sense  should  cease  where  recreation  begins  ?  And 
should  we  not  often  return  with  a  much  happier  sen- 
sation from  the  evening's  intercourse,  if  conscious  that 
we  ourselves  had  contributed,  or  induced  others  to 
contribute,  what  was  fitted  to  expand  the  intellect,  or 
purify  the  taste,  or  hallow  the  affections  of  those  with 
whom  we  came  in  contact  ? 

More  particularly  by  the  occasion  on  which  He 
wrought  this  miracle,  Christ  gave  His  sanction  to  the 
primeval  ordinance  of  marriage.  We  must  remember 
that  we  are  now  at  the  gate  of  Paradise  re-opened. 
The  Saviour  is  undoing  the  works  of  the  devil,  and 
is  recovering  for  His  people  the  forfeited  Eden. 
The  serpent  has  been  bruised,  the  tempter  has  been 
foiled,  and  the  path  to  the  tree  of  life  is  again  to  be 
thrown  open.  And  if  there  is  to  be  any  change,  now 
is  the  time  for  announcing  it.  In  the  early  Paradise 
it  was  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone,;  but  if  in  the 
Christian  Church  it  is  good,  now  is  the  time  for  the 


106  MIRACLES. 

Church's  Founder  to  declare  it.  But  by  that  begin- 
ning of  miracles  the  Son  of  God  declared  that  He  had 
not  come  to  destroy  domestic  life,  but  to  undo  the 
devil's  desecration  of  it,  by  restoring  its  sanctity  and 
its  happiness. 

Lightly  as  it  is  often  gone  about,  and  joyless  as  it 
sometimes  proves,  like  the  Sabbath  itself,  this  primi- 
tive institution  still  survives,  a  small  but  precious 
salvage  from  the  world's  great  shipwreck,  and,  like 
the  Sabbath,  shewing  how  much  the  Creator's  in- 
stitutions can  do  to  promote  the  creature's  blessed- 
ness. Even  where  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God 
was  lost,  this  boon  of  His  has  in  many  cases  lingered, 
and  the  wives  of  Psetus  and  Pliny,  and  the  mother 
of  the  Gracchi,  are  witnesses  how  the  sublimest  and 
loveliest  ingredients  of  our  nature  have  been  elicited, 
even  among  the  heathen,  by  the  right  observance  of 
a  single  relation.  As  coming  nearer  our  own  time, 
as  neither  withdrawn  into  the  remoteness  of  antiquity, 
nor  elevated  into  the  rare  and  heroic  grandeur  of  those 
who,  like  the  wife  of  Grotius  and  Madame  De  La- 
valette,  were  the  means  of  rescuing  their  husbands 
from  captivity  ;  or  that  more  heroic  instance  still  of  a 
Livonian  maid,  whose  betrothed  was  sentenced  to 
banishment,  but  who  married  him  in  his  prison  that 
she  might  share  his  exile  in  Siberia  : — as  modern  in- 
stances, and  as  good  every-day  illustrations  of  the 
last  chapter  of  Proverbs,  and  all  the  better  as  coming 


CANA  :    TIIK  WEDDING  FEAST.  107 

from  a  range  of  illustration  external  to  Christian  bio- 
graphy, we  may  quote  the  words  of  two  distinguished 
lawyers  and  statesmen,  who  ascribed  their  eminence  to 
helps  meet  for  them.  The  first  is  Sir  James  Mackin- 
tosh, who  thus  writes  of  his: — "  By  the  tender  manage- 
ment of  my  weaknesses,  she  cured  the  worst  of  them. 
She  became  prudent  from  affection ;  and  though  of 
the  most  generous  nature,  she  was  taught  economy 
and  frugality  by  her  love  for  me.  She  gently  re- 
claimed me  from  dissipation ;  she  propped  my  weak 
and  irresolute  nature  ;  she  urged  my  indolence  to  all 
the  exertions  that  have  been  useful  or  creditable  to 
me ;  and  she  was  perpetually  at  hand  to  admonish 
my  heedlessness  and  improvidence.  To  her  I  owe 
whatever  I  am  ;  to  her,  whatever  I  shall  be."  And 
in  a  beautiful  passage  of  one  of  his  journals,  Sir 
Samuel  Romilly,  taking  a  retrospect  of  twenty  years 
which  had  been  inspired  by  the  society  of  a  a  most 
intelligent  mind,  a  cheerful  disposition,  a  noble  and 
generous  way  of  thinking,  an  elevation  and  heroism 
of  character,  and  a  warm  and  tender  affection,  such 
as  are  very  rare,"  ascribes  to  that  source  mainly,  not 
only  the  many  and  exquisite  enjoyments  of  his  life, 
but  his  extraordinary  success  in  his  profession. 

To  a  relation  so  sacred,  and  which  has  developed 
some  of  the  finest  features  of  humanity,  the  Head  of 
the  Church  has  given  His  immediate  approval  and 
sanction ;  and  happy  are  the  contracting  parties  who 


108  MIRACLES. 

invite  to  the  marriage  that  Divine  Guest  who  graced  the 
wedding  in  Galilee.  Happy  the  wives  whose  lovely 
piety — not  lecturing,  not  reprimanding  or  reproving — 
but  whose  meek  and  quiet  spirit — whose  silent  per- 
suasion— wins  those  husbands  whom  "  the  word"  has 
failed  to  win.  Happy  the  husbands  who — loving  their 
wives  as  Jesus  loved  the  Church,  with  a  benevolent 
and  self-sacrificing  affection,  in  order  to  sanctify  it,  in 
order  to  present  it  to  Himself  a  glorious  and  spotless 
Church — convey  along  with  their  affection  ennobling 
sentiments  and  lofty  aspirations,  and  who  impart  the 
robustness  of  principle  to  that  goodness  which  has 
softened  their  sternness,  and  around  their  sturdier 
virtues  shed  the  charm  of  its  own  endearing  gentle- 
ness. Happy  those  partners  who,  like  Aquila  and 
Priscilla,  are  united  in  the  Lord,  and  who  think  and 
consult  and  labour  together  in  the  service  of  the  same 
Saviour.  Happy  those  who,  like  Zacharias  and  Eliza- 
beth, walk  in  all  the  statutes  and  ordinances  blame- 
less, and  who  walk  all  the  longer  and  all  the  better 
because  they  walk  arm-in-arm. 


Near  the  Sheep-gate  at  Jerusalem  was  a  pool  which 
the  Most  High  had  endowed  with  a  miraculous  virtue. 
At  certain  intervals — the  evangelist  does  not  say  how 
often,  whether  it  was  daily,  or  weekly,  or  once  a-year, 
nor  does  he  say  how  long  the  pool  had  possessed  this 
virtue,  but  at  certain  intervals — "  an  angel  went  down 
and  troubled  the  waters ;  and  after  the  water  began 
to  be  agitated,  whosoever  was  the  first  to  step  in  w^as 
cured  of  his  disease,  whatever  it  might  be."  There 
was  mercy  in  the  miracle,  and  Bethesda  was  one  of 
the  blessings,  as  well  as  one  of  the  wonders  of  the 
Holy  City.  But  the  boon  was  restricted.  It  corre- 
sponded to  that  limited  economy  under  which  u  sal- 
vation was  of  the  Jews,"  and  when  there  were  few 
indeed  that  were  saved.  The  opportunity  was  of  rare 
recurrence — perhaps  confined  to  the  Passover  and  other 
sacred  festivals — and  the  sufferers  who  could  benefit 
were  only  a  few,  and  these  not  always  the  most  urgent 


110  MIRACLES. 

cases.  The  paralysed,  the  lame,  and  the  impotent 
were  apt  to  be  forestalled  by  sturdier  patients,  and 
the  very  persons  whose  case  was  the  most  deplorable 
were  often  unable  to  reach  the  pool  till  the  virtue  had 
vanished.  In  Bethesda  God  taught  the  Jews  what 
He  is  daily  teaching  ourselves — that,  in  order  to  carry 
out  His  beneficent  arrangements,  human  sympathy 
must  second  the  Divine  generosity.  God  sent  the 
angel,  and  made  Bethesda  therapeutic;  but  unless 
the  sound  and  the  healthy  assisted  the  halt  and  the 
powerless,  Bethesda  was  troubled  in  vain.  There  is 
goodness  enough  in  Creation  and  Providence  to  make 
all  the  men  of  England  comfortable,  contented,  and 
happy  ;  but  unless  the  virtuous  and  well-conditioned 
put  forth  a  helping  hand,  and  assist  their  abject  and 
ignorant  neighbours,  millions  may  perish  on  the  brink 
of  Bethesda.  And  there  is  life  enough  in  the  gospel, 
a  vitalising  virtue  sufficient  to  heal  all  nations ;  and 
blessed  be  God!  that  gospel  is  a  fountain  whose 
angel  is  never  absent — whose  virtue  never  fails ;  but 
unless  there  be  kind  Christian  hands  to  lift  the  leth- 
argic dreamers  who  bestrew  the  brink,  and  to  help 
forward  the  frail  and  tottering  steps  which  can  hardly 
find  the  way,  a  multitude  of  impotent  folk,  halt,  and 
withered,  may  die  amidst  the  means  of  salvation. 

Round  Bethesda  five  porticoes  or  piazzas  had  been 
erected,  luost  likely  to  shelter  from  the  weather  the 
waiting  invalids.     Tn  one  of  these  porticoes,  as  He 


BETHESDA  J    A  REMARKABLE  RECOVERY.         Ill 

passed  on  a  certain  Sabbath,  Jesus  saw  a  poor  patient 
lying.  He  was  advanced  in  years,  and  it  turned  out 
that  he  had  laboured  under  his  malady  to  the  full  ex- 
tent of  an  ordinary  human  life — no  less  than  eight  and 
thirty  years.  As  there  he  lay  on  his  mat,  with  his  pain- 
worn  features,  he  moved  the  pity  of  the  Man  of  Mercies. 
In  answer  to  Christ's  inquiry,  "  Wilt  thou  be  made 
whole?"  it  appeared  that  it  was  from  no  want  of 
anxiety  or  exertion  on  his  own  part  that  he  continued 
a  sufferer  so  long.  He  had  tried  it  often ;  but  he  was 
too  poor  to  pay  for  an  attendant,  and  when  the  pro- 
pitious moment  arrived,  before  he  could  crawl  to  the 
verge,  some  sturdier  expectant  vaulted  in  and  carried 
off  the  cure.  Knowing  the  story  to  be  true,  Jesus 
eyed  him  with  that  mingled  look  of  power  and  com- 
passion which  created  faith  wherever  it  alighted,  and 
said,  u  Rise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk."  Never 
doubting,  never  remonstrating,  asking  no  question, 
and  interposing  no  difficulty,  the  man  instantly  arose, 
and  rolling  up  the  mat,  laid  it  on  his  shoulder,  and 
walked  away.  u  What !  carrying  a  burden  on  the 
Sabbath-day!"  exclaimed  the  infuriated  spectators; 
and  to  appease  their  outraged  zeal,  the  poor  man 
pleaded  the  command  of  his  merciful  Restorer.  But 
fanaticism  would  not  be  content  with  such  an  apology. 
"Where  is  the  man"  —  not,  Where  is  the  man 
who  has  so  wonderfully  cured  you  ?  but — "  Where  is 
the  man  who  said  unto  thee,  Take  up  thy  bed  and 


112  MIRACLES. 

walk  ?"  But  Jesus  was  no  longer  there  ;  and  it  was 
not  till  a  later  hour  that  the  convalescent  was  able 
to  point  out  his  Benefactor.  Jesus  found  him  in  the 
temple;  and,  whilst  his  heart  was  still  soft  with  recent 
obligation,  said,  "  Go,  and  sin  no  more,  lest  a  worse 
thing  befall  thee."  Feeling  it  needful  to  his  own  vin- 
dication, and  hoping,  perhaps,  that  the  hostility  of  the 
Pharisees  would  be  disarmed  when  they  knew  who  had 
wrought  the  wonder,  the  man  told  them  it  was  Jesus. 
"  Therefore  did  the  Jews  persecute  Jesus,  and  sought 
to  slay  him,  because  he  had  done  these  things  on  the 
Sabbath-day." 

"  An  infirmity  thirty  and  eight  years ! "  How  the 
soul  of  the  sufferer  would  have  sunk  could  any  one 
have  foretold,  when  his  disease  was  only  commencing, 
how  long  it  was  to  last!  Young  man,  you  have 
sinned,  and  this  evil  has  befallen  you.  And  it  will 
not  soon  go  away.  The  physician  is  not  yet  born 
into  the  world  who  can  cure  you.  You  say,  The 
pain  is  terrible  to  bear ;  but  you  must  bear  it  eight 
and  thirty  years.  The  present  generation  will  be 
gone,  and  your  own  head  will  be  gray,  before  you 
know  again  what  it  is  to  have  an  hour  of  health 
and  soundness.  But  this  fearful  foreknowledge  was 
mercifully  withheld,  and  scope  was  left  for  that  happy 
instinct  which  is  a  relic  of  the  innocent  era  in  the 
history  of  our  race,  and  closely  connected  with  man's 


BETHESDA  :    A  REMARKABLE   RECOVERY.        llo 

instinct  of  immortality.  The  sufferer  had  room  for 
hope.  He  felt  it  worth  while  to  try  the  remedies. 
Morning  by  morning  he  could  creep  to  Bethesda; 
and  though  so  often  tantalised  and  disappointed,  he 
could  trust  that  the  next  turn  would  be  more  pro- 
pitious; and  how  could  he  tell  but  that  this  day 
was  the  set  time  for  favour,  and  after  being  so 
often  baulked  and  baffled,  what  if  this  were  the 
blessed  day  which  should  end  his  misery,  and  send 
him  back  to  his  fellows  a  restored  and  joyful  con- 
valescent ! 

Better,  however,  than  the  most  sanguine  expecta- 
tion of  a  cure,  is  the  sanctified  use  of  sickness.  God 
lias  different  ways  of  making  His  children  holy; 
but  with  many  it  is  His  plan  to  make  them  perfect 
through  sufferings.  Says  Baxter,  in  his  note  on  this 
passage,  "  How  great  a  mercy  was  it  to  live  thirty- 
eight  years  under  God's  wholesome  discipline!  O 
my  God,  I  thank  Thee  for  the  like  discipline  of  fifty- 
eight  years ;  how  safe  is  this  in  comparison  of  full 
prosperity  and  pleasure."*  And  in  a  similar  spirit 
has  it  been  sung  by  one  who  was  an  invalid  as  many 
years  as  this  poor  man  was  impotent : — 

"  Had  but  the  prison  walls  been  strong, 
And  firm  without  a  flaw, 
In  darkness  faith  had  dwelt  too  long, 
And  less  of  glory  saw. 

•  Quoted  by  Biuut,  vol  i.,  p.  96. 


114  MIRACLES. 

But  now  the  everlasting  hills 

Through  ev'ry  chink  appear, 
And  something  of  the  joy  she  feels, 

While  yet  a  pi-is'ner  here  ! 

The  shines  of  lieaven  rush  sweetly  in 

At  all  the  gaping  flaws, 
Visions  of  endless  bless  are  seen, 

And  native  air  she  draws."  * 

To  the  praise  of  the  glor y  of  His  grace  who  perfects 
strength  in  weakness,  be  it  known  that  there  is  no 
ailment  so  protracted,  nor  any  paroxysm  so  over- 
whelming, but  that  even  as  the  suffering  abounds  the 
consolation  can  also  abound.  As  one  expressed  it, 
who  was  subject  to  manifold  tribulations,  "  The  pro- 
mise, '  As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be,'  has 
been  so  fulfilled  that  I  could  feel  strength  given  my 
soul  each  moment  to  bear  up  against  the  exhaustion  of 
my  body."  f  And  another,  who  for  thirty-seven 
years  was  u  gold  tried  in  the  fire,"  u  I  experience  so 
.much  of  the  Saviour's  love  in  supporting  me  under 
pain,  that  I  cannot  fear  its  increase."  j:  And  we  often 
recall  what  was  once  told  us  by  a  sainted  friend 
whose  parish  was  the  Grassmarket  of  Edinburgh — 
that  when  wearied  and  sickened  with  the  scenes  of 
depravity  which  he  constantly  encountered,  before 
returning  home  for  the  day  he  often  went  to  refresh 
his  spirit  in  a  garret  where  a  poor  woman  was  slowly 

*  Watts'  "  Lyrics." 

+  "  Memorials  of  Two  Sisters,"  p  220. 

J  "  Harriet  Stoneman,"  p.  149. 


BETHESDA  :    THE  WONDERFUL  RECOVERY.      115 

dying  of  a  cancer.  But  so  much  of  Heaven  had 
come  down  to  that  little  chamber,  that  just  as  in  the 
peace  of  God  the  sufferer  triumphed  over  nature's 
agony,  so  in  sharing  her  wonderful  happiness  the 
man  of  God  forgot  the  wickedness  with  which  his 
soul  had  been  vexed  all  day,  as  he  also  forgot  the 
deplorable  misery  of  the  tenement  in  which  this  bea- 
tified spirit  still  lingered.  Glad  and  glorious  infirmity 
which  secures  the  Saviour's  presence,  and  is  sustained 
in  the  Saviour's  power ! 

When  this  poor  man  was  restored,  he  went  to  the 
temple ;  and  it  was  there  that  Jesus  next  found  him. 
Perhaps  it  was  long  since  he  had  been  there  before ; 
and  at  all  events  it  was  a  good  sign  that  lie  found 
his  way  thither  so  soon.  Doubtless,  he  went  in  the 
fulness  of  his  heart,  as  well  as  in  the  first  use  of  his 
renovated  members;  and  most  likely  he  had  taken 
his  thank-offering  with  him. 

Meanwhile,  let  those  of  us  who  are  able  to  fre- 
quent the  house  of  God  not  forget  "  the  assembling  of 
ourselves  together."  Reader,  the  day  must  shortly 
arrive — to  some  perhaps  it  has  arrived  already — when 
you  shall  have  worshipped  your  last  in  the  great  con- 
gregation. And  when  that  Sabbath  comes  on  which 
you  can  go  thither  no  longer — when  in  their  Sun- 
day's attire  the  rest  of  the  household  have  quitted 
you,  and  the  bells  have  fallen  silent,  and  from  some 
neighbouring  sanctuary  the  organic  swell  or  voice  o 


116  MIRACLES. 

psalms  has  announced  the  commencement  of  the  wor- 
ship, and  you  know  that  all  the  Christianity  of  the 
kingdom  is  now  assembled  for  social  prayer  and  praise 
— may  you  not  wish  that  in  days  of  vigour  you  had 
been  a  more  attentive  listener  and  a  more  earnest 
worshipper  ?  May  you  not  wish  that  so  long  as  you 
had  a  sound  and  painless  head  you  had  thrown  more 
fervour  into  the  public  prayer — and  whilst  your 
voice  was  firm  and  clear,  that  you  had  contributed  a 
part  more  cordial  and  inspiring  to  the  psalmody? 
May  you  not  wish  that  when  your  faculties  were 
fresh,  and  before  the  grasshopper  grew  burdensome, 
you  had  hearkened  more  alertly  to  the  words  of  life, 
and  taken  home  more  personally  and  practically  the 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  ?  And  amidst  all  the  motives 
to  strenuous  devotion  and  earnest  hearing,  would  it 
not  be  well  to  bear  in  mind  such  days  of  darkness, 
and  now  be  laying  up  a  good  foundation  against  the 
time  to  come?  Would  it  not  be  well  in  imagination 
to  change  places  sometimes  with  the  mournful  prisoner 
whose  pew  is  this  day  vacant,  or  with  the  joyful 
convalescent  who  regards  it  as  the  crowning  mercy  in 
his  restoration  that  once  more  it  is  said,  u  Go  into 
the  house  of  the  Lord?  " 

The  Son  of  man  is  Lord  of  the  Sabbath,  and  as 
the  great  Legislator,  and  Governor  of  the  Church, 
Jesus  interpreted  the  law  of  the  Sabbath.  Under  the 
old  economy,  the  main  stress  had  been  laid  on  the 


BETHESDA  :    THE  WONDERFUL  RECOVERY.      117 

negative  or  prophibitory  side  of  the  Sabbatic  com- 
mand :  "  Thou  shalt  do  no  manner  of  work :  Thou 
shalt  bear  no  burden  on  the  Sabbath-day ; "  and 
with  the  stricter  Jews,  he  was  the  best  Sabbath- 
observer  who  not  only  abstained  from  his  ordinary  em- 
ployments, but  who  maintained  the  largest  amount  of 
general  inaction.  But  the  Lord  Jesus  u  fulfilled  "  the 
command.  By  not  merely  attending  the  synagogue, 
but  by  curing  diseases,  by  caring  for  the  comfort  of 
those  around  him,  by  speaking  words  in  season,  by 
filling  up  the  hours  with  profitable  discourse  and 
benevolent  deeds — He  shewed  that  the  Sabbath  was 
not  intended  to  be  a  day  of  grim  looks,  sealed  lips, 
and  folded  hands,  but  a  day  of  "  delight " — a  day  of 
active  beneficence  as  well  as  cheerful  devotion.  He 
took  from  it  that  merely  negative  or  prohibitory 
aspect  with  which  Judaism  had  clothed  it,  and 
restored  the  Paradisaic  institution  in  all  its  kindness 
of  design  and  with  its  fulness  of  blessing.  Sabbath- 
keeping,  according  to  the  Jews,  consisted  in  doing 
nothing ;  according  to  Jesus,  it  consisted  in  "  doing 
good."  And  as  it  was  on  a  Sabbath-day  that  He 
first  encountered  this  poor  invalid,  on  the  great  prin- 
ciple that  mercy  is  the  best  form  of  sacrifice,  the 
Lord  Jesus  healed  him  at  once ;  and  on  the  same 
principle  He  bade  him  fold  up  his  couch  and  carry  it 
home.     A  Pharisee  would  rather  that  he  had  lain  a 


118  MIRACLES. 

night  without  a  bed,  or  that  he  had  left  it  behind  at 
the  risk  of  having  it  stolen:  just  as  that  Pharisee 
would  have  thought  it  a  duty  to  leave  the  sufferer  in 
pain  till  the  morrow.  And  whilst  the  very  genius  of 
the  institution  requires  the  suspension  of  secular  em- 
ploy, and  whilst  we  are  far  from  undervaluing  the 
bodily  repose  and  mental  renovation  which  the  Sab- 
bath brings,  we  believe  that  the  man  spends  his  Sab- 
baths best,  and  best  commemorates  the  Lord  of  the 
Christian  Sabbath,  who  is  busiest  in  doing  good.  Nor 
are  there  many  better  ways  of  filling  up  the  hours 
which  are  not  employed  in  worship,  public  or  private, 
than  with  those  works  of  mercy  and  ministrations  to 
the  sick  and  afflicted  of  which  the  Saviour  set  ex- 
amples so  significant.  Not  only  is  there  the  Bethesda 
— the  hospital  into  whose  focus  disease  and  misery 
are  collected — but  there  is  many  a  solitary  sufferer, 
many  a  bereaved  or  destitute  family,  to  which,  with 
the  Bible  in  his  hand  and  the  love  of  the  Saviour  in 
his  heart,  the  benevolent  Christian  might  pay  a 
friendly  visit ;  and  whilst  his  own  spirit  is  quickened 
by  all  the  influences  of  the  hallowed  season,  and 
whilst  theirs  is  solemnised  by  the  events  of  Provi- 
dence, not  only  may  it  be  his  happiness  to  introduce 
the  Great  Physician  and  the  Mourner's  Friend,  but 
over  the  remainder  of  the  day  will  spread  a  softer 
light  and  an  intenser  sacredness.     Not  the  less  "  the 


BETHESDA  :    TIIE  WONDERFUL  RECOVERY.        119 

holy  of  the  Lord  and  honourable"  for  being  be- 
stowed on  labours  of  love:  there  is  no  day  so 
delightful  as  the  day  that  is  useful ;  and  no  week  is 
likely  to  pass  so  serenely  as  the  week  whose  first  day 
was  doubly  hallowed  by  devotion  and  beneficence. 


am:  €\t  fntcmtpiA  Jfuiwral. 

It  was  a  summer  day,  and  it  was  a  lovely  region. 
A  long  with  His  newly  appointed  attendants,  the  twelve 
Apostles,  Christ  had  accomplished  a  considerable 
journey  from  Capernaum.  They  had  reached  the 
edge  of  that  noble  corn-field,  the  golden  plain  of 
Jezreel ;  and  above  them  towered  the  copsy  pyramid 
of  Tabor — the  leafiest  hill  in  all  the  Holy  Land. 
Jesus  was  well  acquainted  with  the  neighbourhood ; 
for  Narazeth  was  only  a  few  miles  distant,  and  per- 
haps He  was  even  now  renewing  acquaintance  with 
spots  where,  in  the  obscure  bygone  days,  He  had  held 
blessed  intercourse  with  His  Father  in  heaven. 
The  travellers  had  nearly  reached  a  little  hamlet, 
and  were  just  making  for  the  entrance,  when  they 
heard  bitter  cries,  and  knew  at  once  that  a  funeral 
was  approaching.  Forthwith  it  issued  from  the  gate. 
There  was  no  coffin ;  but,  wrapped  in  a  linen  shroud, 
all  except  the  face,  lay  the  body,  and  two  bearers 
were  carrying  it  along  on  a  bier.     The  face  was  un- 


NAIN  :    THE  INTERRUPTED  FUNERAL.  121 

covered.  It  was  the  smooth  forehead  and  sun-burnt 
countenance  of  a  young  man.  The  whole  village 
came  after.  Some  had  torn  their  clothes,  as  a  sign 
of  their  sorrow,  and  many  were  raising  from  time  to 
time  a  melancholy  wail :  but  by  far  the  most  affect- 
ing sight  was  the  chief  mourner.  She  was  the  dead 
man's  mother :  and  she  was  all  alone  in  her  sorrow. 
She  had  neither  son,  nor  daughter,  nor  husband  with 
her:  for  in  yonder  sepulchre  she  had  already  laid 
her  husband,  and  on  this  bier  now  lay  her  only 
child.  A  pang  of  tenderness  at  once  went  through  the 
Saviour's  bosom—  a  prophetic  pang — for  perhaps  He 
thought  of  another  widow  who  would  feel  like  anguish 
at  another  funeral,  when  they  would  be  burying  "  the 
only  son"  of  His  own  mother.  "When  the  Lord 
saw  her  he  had  compassion  on  her,  and  said  unto 
her,  Weep  not."  And  putting  his  hand  on  the  bier, 
there  was  something  in  His  aspect  so  majestic  that 
the  bearers  instantly  placed  it  on  the  ground ;  and  as 
the  procession  was  arrested  and  the  shrieks  of  the 
mourners  were  suspended  in  astonishment,  Jesus 
said — "  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise."  The 
word  was  as  awakening  as  the  archangel's  trumpet ; 
for  instantly  he  that  was  dead  sat  up  :  and  like  a 
man  roused  from  a  deep  deep,  and  whose  apartment 
has  filled  with  visitors  during  his  slumber,  opening 
his  eyes  he  began  to  ask  where  he  was.  But — as  if 
to  shew  that  the  acknowledgment  which  He  sought 


122  MIRACLES. 

was  a  life  of  filial  devotedness — Jesus  delivered  him 
to  his  mother  ;  and,  amazed  at  the  miracle,  the  retinue 
of  the  Saviour  and  the  villagers,  no  longer  mourners, 
joined  in  exclaiming,  "  God  hath  visited  his  people : 
a  great  prophet  is  risen." 

1.  Death  is  the  great  destroyer  of  happiness.  It  may 
have  chanced  to  you  to  he  visiting  some  beautiful 
domain,  and  when  you  had  viewed  the  garden  with 
its  porticoes  and  terraces,  and  had  lain  for  a  while 
watching  the  antlered  deer  as  they  browsed  beneath 
the  oaks  of  the  far-ctretching  park,  you  could  almost 
have  envied  the  possessor  of  this  paradise — when 
there  broke  on  your  ear  the  solitary  toll  of  a  church 
bell,  and  then  another,  and  another :  and  looking  up 
you  saw  issuing  from  the  mansion  and  wending  down 
the  avenue  a  plumed  and  sable  pomp,  and  you  learned 
that  the  lord  of  the  manor  was  carrying  to  the  ances- 
tral vault  the  coffin  of  his  son  and  heir.  Yes :  it  is  all 
as  beautiful  as  ever.  You  can  see  no  cloud  blot  the 
sky.  You  perceive  that  the  fountains  still  play,  and 
the  flowers  still  blossom,  and  the  stag  still  crops  the 
herbage  :  but  if  that  chief  mourner  should  notice 
them  at  all,  they  have  lost  all  their  lifesomeness 
and  loveliness  to  him.  He  himself  still  lives,  and  he 
is  still  the  lord  of  this  domain :  but  to  him  the  land- 
scape has  died — the  glory  has  departed.  There  is 
crape  upon  the  lawn ;  a  sepulchral  odour  is  wafted 


NA1N  :    THE  INTERRUPTED  FUNERAL.  123 

from  the  geraniums  and  roses ;  the  knell  from  the 
steeple  is  repeated  by  the  lark  in  the  firmament  and 
the  cicada  in  the  sod;  the  sunshine  is  cruel,  and  the 
sweet  season  is  a  mockery :  and  lie  hates  those  Bteeds 
so  jet  and  glossy,  which  pace  along  so  proudly,  and 
carry  in  the  nodding  hearse  the  hope  of  an  ancient 
house,  and  the  joy  of  the  rich  senator's  old  age.  So 
with  this  Hebrew  matron.  There  was  hardly  a  sweeter 
hamlet  in  all  the  Holy  Land.  There  was  no  spot 
where  the  crops  grew  ranker  or  richer — none  where 
more  of  peace  and  plenty  smiled.  And  she  fancied 
that  she  had  once  enjoyed  it  all ;  and  what  enjoyment 
she  had  was  more  than  doubled  by  the  society  of 
another,  whose  kind  word  was  ample  compensation 
for  many  an  hour's  hard  toil — whose  faintest  smile 
would  have  made  fair  weather  in  the  wildest  winter 
day.  But  he  had  died,  and  he  was  buried  :  and  what 
all  besides  was  buried  in  his  grave  it  is  impossible  to 
tell — so  many  pleasant  schemes,  so  many  fond  do- 
mestic projects ;  yes,  the  fairest  part  of  existence  was 
buried  there,  for  there  was  buried  all  the  future.  But 
something  still  was  left ;  and  coming  back  to  her 
cottage  she  did  not  weep  alone,  for  her  boy,  in  his 
own  childish  way,  would  lay  his  head  on  her  bosom 
and  cry,  because  his  father  would  come  back  no  more. 
As  she  rose  in  the  sleepless  night,  and  in  the  moonlight 
bent  over  his  cot,  many  a  time  she  blessed  God  for 
her  treasure,  and  prayed  that  he  might  live  for  e 


124  MIRACLES. 

And  then  as  lie  roughened  into  sturdier  life,  at  his 
deeper  tones  she  sometimes  started  as  if  at  the  return 
of  a  dear  voice ;  and  at  his  wayward  speeches  and 
wilful  doings  she  was  not  utterly  displeased,  for  they 
reminded  her  of  his  father's  ways.  But  that  was  all 
over  now.  There  was  no  one  to  protect  her  from  the 
people  who  devour  widows'  houses — no  one  to  say  to 
the  desolate  mourner,  "Weep  not."  And  so  the 
cottage  might  be  as  comfortable  as  ever — the  village 
might  to-morrow  put  on  its  bright  and  busy  face 
again — the  balmy  summer  might  float  from  the  cool 
lake  of  Galilee  to  the  ripe  acres  of  Jezreel ;  but  there 
was  one  heart  which  was  likely  to  pass  through  the 
midst  of  it  as  dark  as  night,  as  dead  as  the  sea-side 
stone. 

And  so  to  all  of  us  death  is  the  great  damper. 
From  many  he  has  taken  away  the  desire  of  their 
eyes,  and  though  the  world  is  still  full  of  interesting 
objects,  they  feel  as  if  they  could  never  be  enthusi- 
astic any  more.  And  others  he  fills  with  continual 
forebodings.  When  they  are  cheerful,  and  just  be- 
ginning to  be  happy,  they  fetch  a  deep  sigh  and 
relapse  into  pensiveness ;  for  they  remember,  that 
pleasant  as  this  present  is,  by  reason  of  death  it  can- 
not continue.  And  always  suspecting  a  snake  in 
the  grass,  poison  in  the  cup;  always,  with  bated 
breath  and  beating  heart,  listening  to  the  rustle  of 
the  curtain,  and  expecting  the  assassin's  footstep  on 


5AIN  :    THE  INTERRUPTED  FUNERAL.  125 

the  floor,  this  king  of  terrors  contrives  to  hold  them 
in  bondage  all  their  days.  And  you  are  ready  to  re- 
gret the  long  measure  meted  to  the  old-world  fathers. 
You  say,  If  I  may  not  live  always,  I  wish  I  might 
live  as  long  as  Adam  or  Methuselah.  I  wish  we  had 
a  thousand  years  to  come  and  go  upon.  To  have  all 
our  active,  zestful,  enjoyable  existence  condensed  into 
twenty  or  thirty  years  ;  in  less  than  that  time  to  be 
left  a  widower  or  a  widow ;  to  follow  to  the  grave 
the  child  who  should  have  long  survived  us ;  to  be 
scarcely  ever  out  of  mourning;  and,  what  is  even  a  pain 
more  exquisite,  to  be  hardly  ever  that  you  are  not 
solicitous  for  some  beloved  object — tremulously  watch- 
ing the  ebb  and  flow  of  strength,  the  flushing  and 
the  fading  of  the  countenance; — what  matters  it  that 
this  little  islet  of  existence  has  many  a  pleasant  nook, 
when  such  a  flood  of  sorrow  on  every  side  flows 
round  it  ? 

2.  But  if  Death  be  the  great  destroyer  of  happiness, 
Jesus  i3  the  destroyer  of  Death.  At  His  majestic 
movement  the  bearers  instinctively  stood  still ;  but  it 
was  not  in  that  procession  only  that  a  mysterious 
1  Presence  were  recognised ;  the  voice  which 
said,  "  Young  man,  arise,"  was  heard  as  clearly  in 
the  invisible  world  as  it  was  amidst  that  funeral  com- 
pany ;  and  it  was  because  a  disembodied  spirit  heard 
that  voice,  and  at  once  obeyed  it,  that  where  a  dead 
corpse  lay  last  moment  there  now  leaped  up  a  living 


1 26  MIRACLES. 

::i:in.  To  human  observation  it  was  only  a  common 
t ;  iveller  who  had  arrived  along  the  dusty  road  ;  but 
that  traveller  was  "  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life/' 
carrying  at  his  girdle  the  keys  of  Death  and  Hades ; 
and  to  Him  it  was  as  easy  to  recall  to  its  forsaken  tene- 
ment the  departed  soul,  as  it  would  have  been  to  expel 
from  that  frame  a  disease  or  a  demon.  Obedient  to 
His  omnipotent  behest,  the  spirit  came  again ;  the 
deep  sob,  the  heaving  chest,  the  expanding  features, 
the  disparting  lips,  the  flashing  eye,  proclaimed  the 
presence  of  the  Prince  of  Life ;  and  a  transported 
mother  and  an  awe-struck  multitude  announced  the 
miracle  complete. 

How  the  dead  will  rise,  and  with  what  bodies  they 
will  come,  we  cannot  tell ;  but  this  we  know,  that  of 
all  the  souls  which  have  passed  away  from  their  mor- 
tal shrines  to  the  world  of  spirits,  there  is  not  one 
extinct,  but  that  all  in  their  own  places  are  awaiting 
the  hour  when  the  voice  of  Jesus  will  again  unite 
them  to  a  materialism  which  each  shall  recognise  as 
his  corporeal  companion,  the  former  inlet  of  all  his 
knowledge,  and  the  familiar  instrument  of  all  his 
doings,  good  or  evil.  u  All  that  are  in  their  graves 
shall  hear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  shall  come 
forth ;  they  that  have  done  good,  to  the  resurrection 
of  life;  they  that  have  done  evil,  to  the  resurrection 
of  damnation." 

And  in  the  meanwhile,  there  is  a  resurrection  which 


NAIN  :   THE  INTERRUPTED  FUNERAL.  127 

Jesus  is  effecting  every  day.  Constantly  does  it 
happen  that  some  soul  dead  in  trespasses  is  quick- 
ened into  a  life  of  holy  blessedness.  There  is  a  young 
man  whose  soul  is  dead.  There  is  not  in  him  one 
spark  of  the  life  of  God.  Like  the  young  Galilean 
carried  out  by  his  sorrowing  companions,  he  is  "  past 
feeling,"  and  incapable  of  all  vital  action.  Like  the 
sweet  landscape  which  was  utterly  lost  on  those" sealed 
senses,  all  the  precious  promises,  the  beauties  of  holi- 
ness, the  bright  prospects  of  heaven,  the  fragrant  name 
of  Jesus,  spread  on  every  side  ;  but  this  dead  soul  in- 
hales nothing — this  dead  soul  sees  nothing.  Like  the 
grave-clothes  that  bound  him,  like  the  tomb  with  its 
stone  portal  which  was  soon  to  imprison  him,  this  dead 
soul  is  tied  and  bound  with  the  chain  of  sin,  and  is  buried 
in  the  grave  of  its  ungodliness ;  but  it  neither  rebels  at 
the  fetters  nor  resents  the  weight  of  the  tomb-stone. 
And  like  the  unconscious  clay  which  felt  no  sympathy 
with  the  weeping  mother — which  little  surmised  what 
sorrow  its  own  deadness  caused — and  which  needed  to 
live  again  before  it  knew  how  much  it  was  regretted,  and 
how  dearly  it  was  loved — the  soul  dead  in  trespasses 
never  dreams  of  that  Father  of  spirits  who  bends 
over  him  a  pitying  eye,  and  who.  were  he  now  resus- 
citated, would  exclaim,  "  Rejoice,  for  this,  my  son, 
dead,  and  is  alive  again  !  "  But  the  Saviour 
tkfl  the  word.  By  some  startling  utterance  or 
arresting  Providence  He  stops  the  march  of  death — 


128  MIRACLES. 

He  interrupts  the  sad  journey  to  the  gulf  of  souls. 
"  Young  man,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise."  Yes,  Jesus 
says  it — Young  man,  rise.  The  soul  is  quickened. 
Sensation  comes.  Sin  i3  felt.  Its  bond  is  burst.  Per- 
ception comes.  Holiness  is  seen  to  be  beautiful  ex- 
ceedingly, and  the  character  of  God  most  majestic 
and  most  lovely.  Vital  action  comes.  Behold  he 
prays.  Behold  he  looks  to  Jesus.  Hark,  "  he  begins 
to  speak !  "  He  is  confessing  Christ  before  men.  He 
is  telling  these  young  scholars  about  their  Saviour 
and  their  souls.  He  is  trying  to  prepossess  for  the 
gospel  his  companions  and  his  kindred.  He  is  ready 
to  forsake  his  home,  or  to  return  and  gladden  it,  pre- 
cisely as  Christ  would  have  him  do. 

Where  the  soul  is  thus  made  living,  death  is 
effectually  destroyed ;  for  he  who  thus  believes  in 
Jesus  shall  never  die.  Like  the  r  'mitive  Church, 
who  called  the  martyr's  first  day  in  heaven  his  birth- 
day, and  always  celebrated  its  return  in  bright  ap- 
parel— if  there  were  a  family  or  a  community,  every 
member  of  which  could  shew  his  title  u  to  a  mansion 
in  the  skies" — how  altered  would  be  death's  aspect! 
— how  softened  the  pang  of  parting  ! — how  lightened 
the  gloom  of  the  funeral  day  !  Then,  instead  of  feel- 
ing ourselves  like  so  many  captives  carried  off  by  the 
inexorable  corsair,  and  sent  all  apart  to  dissevered 
and  far-distant  shores,  we  should  feel  like  exiles  going 
home — like  emigrants  returning  to  their  father-land ; 


NAIH  :    THE  INTERRUPTED  FUNERAL.  129 

and  though  not  permitted  to  return  all  in  the  same 
ship,  yet  well  assured  that,  bound  for  the  same  port, 
vc  shall,  ere  long,  meet  in  the  same  Father's  house. 
3.  Observe  how  Jesus  disposed  of  the  resuscitated 
youth.  It  would  have  been  natural  to  say,  "  Follow 
thou  me."  It  would  have  been  fit  and  proper 
that  Jesus  should  have  carried  in  His  retinue  this 
trophy  of  His  power;  and  that  wherever  He  had 
gone  He  should  have  been  attended  by  this  living 
miracle.  Nor  could  either  the  young  man  or  his 
mother  have  grudged  to  their  Benefactor  such  a 
sacrifice.  But  it  was  pity  which  prompted  the  in- 
terposition at  first,  and  a  generosity  as  graceful  as 
it  was  gracious  consummated  this  deed  of  mercy. 
"  Moved  with  compassion,"  Jesus  had  said,  "  Young 
man,  arise;"  and  now  that  he  who  was  dead  had 
returned  to  life,  Jesus  u  delivered  him  to  his  mother." 
We  can  little  doubt  that  both  mother  and  son  were 
henceforth  grateful  disciples ;  but  the  form  in  which 
the  Saviour  desired  that  the  young  man  should 
exhibit  his  gratitude  was  dutiful  devotedness  to  a 
widowed  parent.  And  if  he  had  been — as  we  may 
hope — an  exemplary  son  before,  surely  now  when  he 
recalled  the  ministrations  of  his  own  last  illness; 
n  he  recollected  who  it  was  that  tended  him  so 
tally,  and  prepared  each  cordial  so  thoughtfully ; 
n  he  remembered  who  it  was  that  wiped  his 
damp  brow,  and  fanned  the  hot  air,  and  kissed  his 


130  MIRACLES. 

parched  lips  so  fondly,  and,  stifling  her  emotion,  only 
let  out  the  wildness  of  her  grief  when  she  fancied 
that  it  could  no  longer  disturb  his  sealed  senses ;  and 
when  he  thought  of  that  recognition  so  resurrection- 
like, and  of  the  Saviour's  virtual  charge,  "Woman,  be- 
hold thy  son :  Man,  behold  thy  mother  ; "  surely  there 
would  be  a  tenderness  of  attachment,  and  a  minuteness 
of  forethought,  and  a  self-denial  and  self-sacrifice,  in 
the  home-life  of  that  son,  worthy  of  his  wonderful 
history ;  and  the  man  who,  instead  of  preaching  the 
Gospel,  received  it  as  a  charge  from  his  Saviour  to 
cherish  his  mother,  would  surely  be  a  paragon  of 
filial  piety. 

There  is  no  one  in  this  world  who  has  stronger 
claims  on  all  that  is  holy  in  sympathy,  and  all  that 
is  delicate  in  kindne.-s,  than  one  who  is  u  a  widow 
indeed ;"  and  from  the  very  fact,  that  till  now  she  has 
had  all  the  heavier  cares  carried,  and  all  the  rougher 
work  done  for  her  by  another,  she  is  often  more  help- 
less and  forlorn  than  those  who  have  fought  life's 
battle  single-handed.  And  as  the  time  when  the 
stroke  of  God  has  fallen  heaviest  on  the  home — as 
that  is  the  time  which  brings  the  vultures  together — 
as  it  is  the  time  when  accounts  already  discharged 
are  sent  in  to  be  paid  a  second  time,  when  sleeping 
law-suits  are  revived,  when  demands  the  most  exorbi- 
tant are  made  on  one  whose  broken  heart  can  offer 
no  resistance,  and  whose  very  tears  invite  thorn  to 


nain:  the  interrupted  funeral.         131 

take  all :  oh !  it  is  a  noble  sight  when,  foregoing  the 
frivolities  of  youth,  and  exhibiting  a  wisdom  and 
energy  beyond  his  years,  the  boy  becomes  the  man 
of  business,  and  the  father's  son  steps  forth  as  the 
mother's  champion,  and  drives  off  the  ghouls  who 
threatened  to  devour  the  widow's  house.  Happy 
omen  for  the  subsequent  career  of  such  high-hearted 
sons  of  youth,  and  for  the  comfort  and  honour  of  their 
own  subsequent  relations !  Happy  earnest  that  He 
who  has  annexed  the  first  promise  to  the  fifth  com- 
mand, and  who,  at  Sarepta  and  at  Nain,  restored  to 
life  a  widow's  only  son,  will  not  forget  this  work  of 
filial  love !  Happy  household  where,  as  with  "  the 
mother  of  the  Gracchi,"  the  family  history  includes 
a  tale  of  filial  heroism  and  maternal  recompense  ! 

Perhaps  there  may  fall  on  these  pages  the  eye  of 
some  youthful  reader  who  has  lately  learned  to  love 
the  Saviour;  and  you  arc  asking,  What  shall  I 
render?  What  is  there  I  can  do  to  shew  my  grati- 
tude to  Him  who  gave  Himself  for  me?  And 
ibly  you  have  thought  of  some  great  or  arduous 
thing — the  ministiy,  a  mission,  the  visitation  of  a 
district,  the  inauguration  of  a  ragged  school.  Per- 
haps it  may  be  His  will  that  you  should  eventually 
embark  in  this;  but,  in  the  meanwhile,  whether  as  a 
preparation  for  ulterior  work,  or  as  your  life's  entire 
bestowment,  it  is  His  will  that  you  "  shew  piety  at 
home."     You  love  your  parents ;  let  them  know  it. 


132  MIRACLES. 

Give  them  your  confidence ;  give  them  your  society. 
Think  occasionally  of  these  two  things — of  what  they 
have  already  done  for  you,  and  of  what  yon  now  may 
do  for  them.  You  sometimes  make  them  little  presents. 
Good;  but  remember  what  the  gift  is  for  which  a 
parent's  soul  most  yearns :  "  My  son,  give  me  thine 
heart."  However  much  you  may  be  taken  up  with 
more  youthful  associates,  let  them  feel  that  every  day, 
as  your  understanding  expands,  and  your  character 
confirms,  you  love  them  more  and  more.  And  should 
the  shewing  of  that  love  involve  some  self-denial; 
should  depression  of  spirits,  should  peculiarities  of 
temper,  should  dim  sight  or  dull  hearing,  should 
manifold  infirmities  or  protracted  feebleness  impart 
a  task-like  complexion  to  the  labour  of  love — behold 
in  this  a  gauge  of  principle,  a  test  of  loyalty  to 
your  Lord  in  heaven.  Here  is  your  present  mission  ; 
here  is  your  immediate  ministry;  here  is  the  best 
preparation  for  ulterior  service,  should  such  await 
you;  nor  need  regrets  surround  the  closing  hour 
though  life  should  end  without  a  higher  calling. 


Dead,  dead !  that  arm  which  steer'd  the  skiff 

Through  Galilee's  white  surf; 
Lead,  lead !  that  foot  which  chased  the  d«er 

O'er  Tabor's  bounding  turf. 


NAIN  :    THE  INTERRUPTED  FUNERAL.  133 

Beneath  the  rock  the  shepherd  sings, 

The  turtle  's  in  the  tree ; 
Bat  neither  song  cor  summer  greets 

The  silent  land  and  thee. 

March,  march  !  the  pale  procession  s\*ingfc 

With  measur'd  tramp  and  tread ; 
Wo,  wo !  yon  gaping  sepulchre 

Is  calling  for  the  dead. 

And  bitter  is  the  wail  that  weeps 

The  widow's  only  joy, 
And  vows  to  lean  her  broken  heart 

Beside  her  gallant  boy. 

Halt,  halt !  a  hand  is  on  the  bier, 

And  life  stirs  in  the  shroud  ; 
Rise,  rise  !  and  view  the  Man  Divine 

Who  wakes  thee  'midst  the  crowd. 

And  as  the  mother  clasps  her  son 

In  awe-struck  ec3tacy, 
Turn  thou  thine  eyes  to  Him  whose  word 

Is  immortality. 

Home,  home  !  to  make  that  mother  glad, 

And  recompense  her  tears ; 
Home,  home  !  to  give  that  Saviour-God 

This  second  lease  of  years. 

And  when  amidst  a  greater  crowd 

Thou  hear'st  that  voice  again 
May  rising  saints  see  Jesus  in 

The  widow's  son  of  Nain. 


rV      Of  TH* 

UNI7EH, 

Of 


Eastward  of  the  Lake  of  Galilee  lies  the  country 
which  was  allotted  to  Reuben,  Gad,  and  the  half- 
tribe  of  Manasseh.  In  the  days  of  our  Saviour  it 
was  inhabited  by  people  still  more  degenerate,  less 
religious,  and  less  respectable  than  the  Galileans 
themselves.  From  Tiberias,  and  the  other  towns  on 
the  western  margin  of  the  lake,  its  hills  and  villages 
looked  very  near ;  but  Jesus  had  never  visited  them. 
However,  as  one  region  where  lost  sheep  of  the  house 
of  Israel  might  be  looked  for,  it  was  fit  that  the  Good 
Shepherd  should  go  to  this  unattractive  country. 
Accordingly,  at  the  close  of  a  day,  when  He  had 
spoken  many  parables,  He  said  to  His  disciples,  "  Let 
us  pass  over  unto  the  other  side."  With  no  further 
preparation,  they  loosed  from  the  shore  and  launched 
out  into  the  deep.  Fatigued  with  His  laborious 
day,  the  Lord  Jesus  fell  asleep.  Amidst  the  dark- 
ness there  came  whirling  down  the  opposite  ravines 
a  violent  gust  of  wind,  and  as  it  swept  the  white 
spray  before  it,  it  smote  the  little  craft  so  fiercely  as 


GADARA  :  THE  DEMONS  EXPELLED.     135 

almost  to  capsize  it.  But  although  the  vessel  plunged 
so  wildly,  and  although  the  waves  were  dashing  in, 
the  Divine  Passenger  slept  on.  It  almost  seemed  as 
if  "the  Prince  of  the  power  of  the  air"  was  seeking 
to  beat  back  from  his  coast  a  dreaded  invader ;  and 
in  sublime  security  the  Heavenly  Voyager  disdained 
to  be  disturbed.  But  though  the  war  of  elements 
has  no  power  to  disturb  the  Son  of  God,  the  cry  of 
extremity,  the  wail  of  anguish  instantly  arouses  Him. 
"Master,  carest  thou  not  that  we  perish?"  And 
although  ignorance  and  unbelief  mingled  with  that 
cry,  there  was  generosity  sufficient  in  Jesus  to  attend 
on  the  instant,  and  before  He  reproved  the  disciples 
He  rebuked  the  wind,  "Peace,  be  still;"  and  in- 
stantly the  drenched  boatmen  were  skimming  over  a 
glassy  sea  to  a  near-jhand  landing-place. 

Yet,  storms  in  the  atmosphere  are  only  material 
symbols  of  the  wilder  tempests  in  the  mind  of  man. 
Up  among  the  cliffs  that  overhancr  the  lake,  and  in 
one  of  the  cave-like  tombs  into  which  they  are  hol- 
lowed, two  demoniacs  had  been  sleeping.  The  loud 
wind  awoke  them,  and  hieing  forth  into  the  blast, 
they  capered  and  shouted  in  chorus  with  the  hurri- 
cane ;  and  as  the  gray  morning  showed  a  vessel 
making  for  the  shore,  the  impulse  of  mischief  bore 
them  off  to  meet  it.  One  of  them  was  so  much  more 
remarkable  than  the  other,  that  Mark  and  Luke 
notice  him  only.      He  was  a  strong  and  muscular 


136  MIRACLES. 

man,  of  whom  the  other  was  only  the  shadowy  satel- 
lite. Though  he  had  been  frequently  caught  and 
confined  with  fetters,  such  a  fury  would  sometimes  in- 
spire him,  that  he  would  pull  the  staple  from  the  wall, 
or  snap  the  chain  in  sunder,  and  beating  down  the 
door,  with  wild  laughter  would  he  burst  through  the 
streets,  and  bound  off  to  the  wilderness  again.  So 
notorious  were  his  strength  and  ferocity,  that,  to 
avoid  his  haunts,  passengers  were  fain  to  make  a  long 
detour,  and  it  was  only  by  banding  together  that  the 
swineherds  felt  safe  in  his  neighbourhood.  And  now, 
as  in  the  doubtful  dayspring,  he  came  careering  along, 
followed  by  his  obscurer  companion,  huzzahing,  and 
howling,  and  clanking  on  the  rocks  his  broken 
fetters,  the  sight  was  very  terrible ;  and  from  his 
blood-stained  arms  and  flashing  eyes,  the  disciples 
would  gladly  have  retreated  into  the  shelter  of  their 
ship.  But  Jesus  went  forward  to  meet  him;  and 
as  soon  as  He  was  near  enough,  the  demoniac 
fell  prostrate,  and  exclaimed,  "  What  have  I  to  do 
with  thee,  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  the  most  high  God  ? 
I  conjure  thee  that  thou  torment  me  not."  At  a  dis- 
tance, the  hope  of  mischief  had  urged  the  demons  to 
the  shore;  but  nearer  hand  they  recognised  more  than 
a  mortal  man,  and  knowing  now  who  the  Stranger 
was,  they  besought  the  Son  of  God  to  let  them  alone. 
Pitying  their  victim,  Jesus  asked  his  name ;  and 
the  answer  was,  half  maniac,  half  demoniac,  u  Legion  : 


GADARA  :  THE  DEMONS  EXPELLED.     137 

for  we  are  many."  And  perceiving  the  Saviour's 
purpose,  the  demons  begged  that  He  would  not  send 
them  out  of  that  country,  or  order  them  hack  into 
their  own  abyss.  "  If  thou  cast  us  out,  send  us  into 
these  swine."  And  instantly  the  whole  herd  ran 
violently  over  a  precipice,  and,  being  drowned  in  the 
lake,  we  may  infer  that  the  demons  were  cast  out  of 
that  country,  and  sent  back  to  the  dreaded  "  deep," 
whence  they  came. 

But  the  villagers,  whom  the  tidings  soon  collected, 
were  filled  with  a  twofold  emotion.  They  were  greatly 
amazed  at  the  change  on  the  hapless  demoniac.  There 
he  was,  full  of  gratitude,  sitting  at  the  feet  of  his 
Deliverer,  decently  attired,  and  calm  reason  looking 
forth  from  those  eyes  which  so  long  had  glared  with 
frenzy.  He  whom  the  brawniest  wight  among  them 
would  not  have  dared  to  face  in  single  combat, 
and  so  savage  that  his  name  was  a  bugbear  to  all  the 
district — so  mild  and  gentle  now  that  yonder  mother 
would  not  fear  to  place  her  infant  in  his  arms.  How 
marvellous  !  how  delightful !  If  they  could  only  per- 
suade this  mighty  Benefactor  to  tarry !  If  He  would 
only  take  a  liking  for  their  country,  or  divide  the 
betwixt  themselves  and  Galilee,  there  was  no 
mansion  in  all  Perea  which  should  not  be  at  the  dis- 
posal of  such  an  illustrious  guest,  and  theirs  would 
I  happy  land  that  boasted  the  powerful  Presence 
which  winds  and   seas  obey,  and  which  "devils  fear 


138  liillACLKS. 

and  fly."  But  the  swine !  the  two  thousand  swine ! 
half  the  wealth  of  Gadara  !  True,  they  ought  not  to 
have  had  them.  They  were  renegades  in  feeding 
them.  They  felt  that  they  could  not  upbraid  this 
prophet  for  destroying  them,  and  the  manner  of  their 
destruction  was  a  significant  intimation,  that  the  devil 
at  last  will  claim  his  own,  and  that  wealth  borrowed 
from  below  will  sooner  or  later  re  I  urn  to  the  abyss. 
i  Still,  property  is  property,  and  why  should  old  Mosaic 
laws  obstruct  the  trade  of  Gadara?  Doubtless,  to 
us  it  is  forbidden  food  ;  but  why  should  not  Gada- 
renes  feed  swine,  and  accept  in  exchange  silver  ses- 
terces from  Roman  soldiers  ? '  And  just  in  the  same 
way  as  many  a  one  would  receive  the  Lord  Jesus  as 
a  simple  Fardoner,  but  takes  alarm  the  moment  he 
finds  this  Pardoner  is  also  a  Saviour;  as  many  a 
one  would  make  the  Lord  Jesus  welcome,  if  He  would 
only  say,  "  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee ; "  but  looks 
blank  when  he  hears  it  added,  u  Go,  and  sin  no 
more,  lest  a  worse  thing  befall  thee ; "  as  many  a  one 
at  this  moment  would  feel  it  his  impulse  to  receive 
Christ  under  his  roof,  but  would  change  his  mind  the 
instant  he  found  that  on  the  arrival  of  this  guest,  all 
money  made  by  gambling,  or  betting,  or  smuggling, 
took  wing,  and  every  article  purchased  from  unpaid 
creditors  walked  away;  as  many  a  one  who  would 
have  accepted  the  gospel  alongside  of  one  favourite 
iniquity,  when  it  comes  to  the  alternative,  keeps  the 


GADARA  :  THE  DEMONS  EXPELLED.     139 

Bin,  and  sends  away  the  Saviour:  so  these  Gadarenes 
were  so  grieved  at  the  loss  of  the  swine,  that,  even 
although  it  should  risk  the  return  of  the  demons,  they 
"besought  the  Lord  Jesus  to  depart  out  of  their  coasts. 

It  is  impossible  to  read  this  narrative  without  deep 
compassion  for  the  wretched  sufferer,  and  without 
feeling  thankful  that  Satan  is  so  bound  that  he  and  his 
angels  can  thus  afflict  mankind  no  more.  Much  has 
been  written  on  the  pathology,  or  perhaps  we  should 
rather  say  on  the  psychology,  of  these  demoniacal 
possessions — to  which  we  have  nothing  to  add,  and 
which  it  would  take  too  long  to  expound.  We  shall, 
therefore,  conclude  with  the  moral  lesson  deducible 
from  the  case  of  this  unhappy  man :  for  we  think 
that  such  a  lesson  it  was  fitted  and  intended  to  convey. 

Amongst  this  peculiar  people — a  people  whose 
education  was  mainly  carried  on  by  types  and  sym- 
bols— among  this  people  there  existed  a  disease  so 
singular  that  you  are  apt  to  fancy  it  must  have  been 
created  mainly  for  the  sake  of  its  symbolic  instruction. 
Than  leprosy,  as  it  existed  among  the  Jews — and 
among  them  it  would  seem  to  have  been  in  many 
respects  different  from  any  disease  now  known — than 
this  dire  malady  there  could  be  no  more  expressive 
!cm  of  sin  in  all  its  loathsomeness  and  contagious- 
ness and  deadlines*,  And  whether  creating  it  on 
purpose  or  finding  it  already  in  existence,  the  Divine 


140  MIRACLES. 

Lawgiver  adopted  this  malady  as  the  basis  of  a 
solemn  and  significant  instruction,  and  in  the  Law  of 
the  Leper  Jehovah  wrote,  most  fully  and  most  fear- 
fully, the  Natural  History  of  Sin. 

And  though  there  is  no  code  or  commandment  on 
the  subject  of  demoniacs,  is  it  a  fancy  altogether 
gratuitous  or  groundless  to  suppose  that  this  remark- 
able visitation  had  also  its  religious  lesson  —  its 
spiritual  significance  ?  Without  insinuating  that  the 
sufferers  were  sinners  above  all  that  dwelt  in  the 
Holy  Land,  was  not  the  infliction  at  once  and  in- 
evitably suggestive  of  sin?  And  without  saying 
that  other  ailments,  corporeal  and  mental,  were  not 
often  associated  with  it,  could  there  be  any  calamity 
in  itself  more  dismal  and  appalling?  Was  it  not  a 
solemn  warning  that  the  man  who  by  sin  makes  him- 
self Satan's  vassal  may  soon  be  his  victim,  and  that 
he  who  plays  with  the  tempter  may  soon  be  possessed 
by  the  devil  ?  Above  all,  if  the  disease  already  men- 
tioned were  an  image  of  sin's  loathsomeness  and  con- 
tagiousness, what  could  be  imagined  more  striking 
than  the  case  before  us  as  a  picture  of  sin's  madness 
and  misery  ? 

For  what  was  this  man's  case?  He  had  an 
identity — a  personality,  quite  distinct  from  the  demon 
who  possessed  him.  He  had  a  will,  and  the  demon 
had  a  will ;  but  the  stronger  will  overbore  the  weaker 
one,  and  he  was  sometimes  led  along  a  helpless  but 


GADARA  .  THE  DEMONS  EXPELLED.     141 

not  utterly  unconscious  captive.  At  other  times  we 
may  suppose  that  the  fury  with  which  he  was  hurried 
along  drove  him  distracted,  and  left  him  a  mere  blind 
tool  in  the  hand  of  his  demon  master. 

What  an  emblem  of  a  sinful  passion  i  A  man  has 
learned  to  gamble.  By  betting  at  the  races,  or  by 
playing  games  of  chance,  he  won  a  few  pounds  like 
magic ;  and  though  he  lost  them  again,  he  learned  to 
love  the  excitement  and  the  luck,  and  ere  ever  he 
was  aware,  he  had  become  an  inveterate  gamester. 
But  debt  and  the  danger  of  disgrace  sobered  him. 
He  saw  that  he  was  playing  the  fool,  and  he  resolved 
to  stop.  It  was  very  hard,  but  still  he  was  so  far 
master  of  himself  that  he  succeeded.  For  months  he 
never  earned  an  idle  penny,  and  he  never  lost  one. 
But  on  a  bright  day  of  May  he  was  enticed  away  to 
Epsom,  and  he  was  tempted  by  the  enormous  odds. 
Or  he  wandered  into  the  billiard-room,  and  they 
played  so  badly — he  could  do  it  so  much  better — he 
took  up  the  stick  and  he  laid  down  his  money,  and 
he  was  growing  rich  as  a  banker,  when  the  caprice  of 
an  ivory  ball  left  him  a  beggar.  Or  a  man  has 
learned  to  tipple.  Drink  is  his  demon.  He  knows 
it'  he  laments  it  he  condemns  it  he  curses  it: 
but  he  cannot  get  rid  of  it.  Like  the  stag  on  whose 
shoulders  the  lurking  leopard  has  dropped  from  the 
tree,  he  is  bestrid  by  a  rider  who  is  lapping  his  life's 
blood,  and  whose  clutch  will  not  relax  whether  his 


142  MIRACLES. 

victim  seek  the  field  or  the  forest.  And  though, 
when  he  adverts  to  his  flagging  strength  and  his 
faltering  hand — though  when  he  looks  at  his  wife 
and  his  children,  and  thinks  what  he  is  doing,  he 
execrates  his  frenzy,  yet  still  he  dearly  loves  his 
foe :  and  next  pay-night  he  feels  a  sudden  thirst — the 
contest  of  a  weaker  and  a  stronger  will— the  desire  to 
be  sober  and  the  determination  to  drink — the  wish  to 
be  temperate  and  the  passion  to  tipple :  till  yielding 
to  the  stronger  than  he,  he  loses  self-mastery,  and 
comes  home  a  howling  demoniac,  exceeding  fierce, 
and  a  terror  to  all  that  come  in  his  way. 

And  do  we  not  see  a  further  emblem  of  sin  in  this 
man's  shocking  abode  and  shameless  habits?  The 
clothing  that  was  given  him  he  tore  to  tatters,  and 
rather  than  remain  in  his  own  comfortable  home,  he 
chose  to  dwell  amidst  the  corruption  and  putrid 
effluvia  of  the  sepulchre.  And  although  the  cases  are 
not  so  common  where,  with  Byronic  effrontery,  men 
glory  in  their  shame,  where  they  boast  how  bad  they 
are,  and  repeat  with  triumph  their  exploits  of  infamy; 
yet  in  the  case  of  almost  all  possessed  with  the  devil 
there  is  the  same  predilection  for  the  charnel-house — 
the  same  propensity  for  corrupt  and  corrupting  society. 
Why  is  it  that  he  loves  such  low  company  ?  Why  is 
it  that  instead  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth  he  seeks 
out  coarse  and  sottish  acquaintances — men  with  the 
very  sight  of  whom  you  feel  disgusted  ?    Why  should 


GADAKA  :  THE  DEMONS  EXPELLED.      143 

he  prefer  that  crew  of  villains  to  the  pure  affections  and 
home-stead  delights  which  invite  him  to  his  own  fire- 
side? For  the  same  reason  that  to  his  own  cottage 
the  demoniac  preferred  a  tomb.  He  is  not  himself. 
He  is  the  slave  of  some  lust  or  passion,  and  is  led 
captive  by  it  at  its  will.  That  tyrant  lust,  that 
master-passion,  cannot  live  in  a  holy  atmosphere ;  and 
therefore  it  hurries  its  victim  away  to  the  foul  scenes 
and  rank  atmosphere  which  constitute  its  vital  air. 

We  may  believe,  however,  that  it  was  with  this 
man  as  with  many  in  the  like  condition.  Indeed, 
some  circumstances  would  indicate  as  much ;  namely, 
that  now  and  then  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  actual 
state,  and  his  darkened  mind  was  visited  by 
glimmerings  of  remorse  and  regret.  As  he  sat  in 
his  cave,  beneath  the  moonlight,  and  watched  the 
great  bats  fluttering  out  and  in,  or  heard  a  hyaena 
sniffing  and  cranching  among  the  bones  of  the  dead ; 
as  he  viewed  the  furniture  of  his  strange  abode — the 
torn  shrouds  and  the  orbless  skulls  piled  here  and 
there — he  marvelled  what  had  brought  him  to  that 
Golgotha.  "  I  will  arise,  and  go  unto  mine  house;" 
and  for  awhile  he  almost  thanked  the  friendly  force 
which  manacled  his  hands  and  reft  him  of  the  power 
of  mischief.  Yet  even  there  he  was  not  at  home. 
The  house  was  swept  and  garnished,  but  the  de- 
moniac's mind  was  empty.  No  good  angel  had  taken 
up  li  ace,  rod  seven  devils  entering  in  hurried 


144  MIRACLES. 

him  off  to  his  old  scenes,  and  made  his  latter  end 
worse  than  the  first.  And  any  one  who  is  the 
victim  of  a  sinful  passion,  can  easily  recal  visita- 
tions of  horror  and  fits  of  reform.  You  were  dis- 
gusted at  yourself.  You  felt  more  foolish — more 
brutish  than  any  man  ;  you  were  a  beast — a  mad- 
man in  your  own  eyes — and  you-  vowed  that  at  any 
hazard  you  would  begin  a  better  life ;  you  would 
have  even  thanked,  as  a  welcome  violence,  any  one 
who  would  have  bound  you  with  chains,  so  as  to 
keep  you  back  from  your  besetting  sin.  And  you 
laid  bands  on  yourself.  You  made  promises  and  re- 
solutions. You  told  tli3  entire  case  to  some  friend  and 
begged  that  he  would  help  you,  that  he  would  watch 
you  and  warn  you;  and  yet  again  you  fell.  You 
played  the  fool  as  formerly.  You  were  mad  at  your- 
self. Like  Legion  cutting  himself  with  stones,  you 
could  almost  kill  yourself.  You  punished  yourself 
by  all  sorts  of  penances.  You  would  eat  no  pleasant 
bread.  You  almost  envied  the  austerities,  the  priva- 
tions, and  the  prisons  of  the  Papist.  But  the  unclean 
spirit  had  regained  possession ;  you  were  presently 
as  besotted  as  ever;  and  the  Bacchanalian  ditty  or 
the  demoniac  laugh,  startling  the  peaceful  night, 
announced  that  Legion  was  gone  back  to  the  tombs. 

Yes,  hapless  man,  these  sinful  passions  are  exceed- 
ing fierce.  But  though  no  man  can  bind  them  ;  nay, 
though  ofttimes  bound  with  chains,  they  will  break 


GADAEA  :    THE  DEMONS  EXPELLED.  145 

the  fetters ;  though  no  man  can  bind  them,  Jesus  can 
expel  them.  Entreat  His  pity.  Cast  yourself  under 
His  protection.  Not  only  do  the  storms  and  winds 
obey  Him,  but  the  very  devils  are  subject  to  Him. 
Fling  yourself  at  His  feet,  and  implore  His  com- 
pMtton.  Not  only  will  He  cast  forth  the  unclean 
spirit,  but  He  will  effectually  preclude  its  return. 
He  will  put  His  Holy  Spirit  within  you,  and  that 
Divine  Occupant  will  make  you  so  happy  at  home, 
that  you  will  not  need  to  wander  through  dry  places, 
seeking  rest  and  finding  none.  The  sweetness  of 
new  and  holy  tastes  will  take  the  zest  from  old 
and  evil  habits ;  and,  not  only  clothed  and  in  your 
right  mind,  not  only  reformed  and  respectable,  but 
renewed  and  made  spiritual,  like  Legion  now  passing 
his  forsaken  dwelling  amidst  the  tombs,  far  from 
being  tempted  to  return,  you  will  only  view  your 
former  companions  with  pity,  your  former  haunts 
with  amazement  and  horror.  Like  this  ragged 
scholar,  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, — like  this  reclaimed 
demoniac  in  the  society  of  the  Saviour, — you  will 
find  that  your  Divine  Teacher  is  well  able  to  fit  you 
for  the  fellowship  of  the  saints,  and  that  He  is  One 
who  will  never  .suffer  you  to  depart  from  Him  till  you 
are  ready  to  be  taken  home  to  His  own  abode  of  peace, 
and  love,  and  purity. 


ftfp  §fcserf  near  $  tijpiritot:  %\t 
Utoltitabe  Jfrtr. 

Acting  on  the  instructions  of  their  Lord,  the  twelve 
had  completed  a  perambulation  of  the  Galilean  vil- 
lages, and  had  now  returned  from  preaching  the 
gospel  of  the  kingdom,  and  healing  many  of  their 
diseases — a  sort  of  trial-trip  or  experimental  tour  by 
which  their  Master,  whilst  yet  with  them,  sought  to 
train  them  for  that  work  which  was  soon  to  be  the 
business  of  their  lives.  But  now  that  they  had 
returned  to  the  rendezvous,  it  was  just  that  season 
when  the  whole  population  was  streaming  along  the 
thoroughfares — journeying  up  to  the  feast  at  Jeru- 
salem ;  and  as  repose  was  impossible  in  the  midst  of 
so  many  visitors,  Jesus  said  to  His  travel-worn  com- 
panions, "  Let  us  go  into  a  desert  place  and  rest 
awhile." 

But  there  was  another  reason.  Tidings  had  arrived 
of  the  death  of  John  the  Baptist;  and,  in  the  present 
haunted  state  of  the  tetrarch's  conscience — ready  to 


THE  MULTITUDE  FED.  147 

scare  at  every  spectre,  and  rendered  unscrupulous  by 
his  desperate  guilt — the  least  commotion  in  Galilee 
might  be  followed  by  fearful  severities ;  whilst  the 
recoil  of  popular  feeling  from  a  tyrant  so  sanguinary 
might  precipitate  a  step  which  was  altogether  to  be 
deprecated,  and  lead  them  to  proclaim  Jesus  their 
king.  And,  as  His  time  was  not  yet  come,  Jesus 
retreated  from  this  risk  of  commotion,  and  with- 
drew into  a  distant  solitude. 

But  why  should  we  scruple  to  add  as  another 
possible  element  in  the  Saviour's  retirement,  the 
solemn  musings  awakened  by  the  death  of  the  Baptist? 
John  was  the  kinsman  of  Jesus.  He  had  spent  his 
life  in  the  service  of  Messiah;  and  now  he  had  fallen 
the  first  of  His  martyrs.  And  although,  so  far  as 
John  was  concerned,  there  could  only  be  joy  at  his 
entrance  into  the  heavenly  blessedness,  his  cruel  fate 
was  but  an  earnest  of  what  awaited  Christ's  faithful 
witnesses  in  this  evil  world.  With  such  a  prospect, 
was  it  right  to  go  on  with  the  gospel?  Was  it 
worthy  of  the  mild  and  merciful  Jesus  to  persist  in  a 
plan  which  wa3  thus  unsheathing  a  new  sword  in  the 
world,  which  was  evidently  kindling  a  new  fire  in  the 
earth?  For  it  really  amounted  to  this.  If  Jesus  carried 
through  His  enterprise,  He  could  even  then  foresee 
the  fearful  amount  of  human  suffering  it  involved — 
the  thousands — nay, myriads — whom  it  should  consign 
to  dungeons  and  galleys — the  multitudes  who  should 


148  MIRACLES. 

be  tortured  to  death  by  agonies  too  fearful  to  contem- 
plate— the  millions  whom  attachment  to  Himself 
should  subject  to  privation  and  exile,  to  poverty  and 
pain.  And  in  the  survey  of  all  that  mournful  mul- 
titude— the  mighty  army  of  martyrs,  crucified,  im- 
paled, beheaded,  sawn  in  sunder,  hurled  over  the 
cliffs  of  Piedmont,  drowned  in  the  frozen  lakes  of 
Holland,  roasted  in  the  fires  of  Spain,  shot  on  the 
moors  of  Scotland,  buried  alive  in  Italian  prisons — 
in  surveying  all  that  host  of  secondary  martyrs,  their 
outlawed  orphans  and  broken-hearted  widows,  was  it 
humane,  was  it  right  in  the  Prophet  of  Nazareth  to 
persist  with  a  system  so  fraught  with  sorrow  ?  In- 
stead of  retiring  to  the  desert,  would  it  not  be  better 
to  return  to  that  heaven  whence  He  came,  and  leave 
the  world  to  its  own  tranquil  tenor? 

But  to  leave  the  world  to  its  tranquil  tenor  would 
have  been  to  leave  it  to  perdition.  It  would  have  been 
to  leave  it,  not  a  world  of  mingled  good  and  evil,  but 
a  world  of  triumphant  wickedness.  It  would  have  been 
to  leave  it,  not  a  world  of  righteous  sufferers  and  un- 
righteous oppressors,  but  a  world  of  warring  fiends ;  a 
world  where,  like  Indian  savages  torturing  one  another, 
"both  the  martyrs  and  their  murderers  would  have  been 
alike  brutal  and  unlovely.  To  make  it  a  better  world, 
it  was  needful  that  some  should  suffer ;  to  make  it  a 
world  more  true,  more  holy,  more  devout,  it  was 
essential  that  some  should  be  so  holy,  so  truthful,  so 


THE  MULTITUDE  FED.  149 

devout,  that  the  rest  could  not  tolerate  them  :  in 
other  words,  bad  as  men  now  are,  the  only  cure  is 
that  some  Abels  should  be  so  good  that  the  Cains 
cannot  endure  them.  And  if  the  martyr's  pains 
are  sharp,  they  are  also  short;  and  his  momentary 
cross  is  followed  by  an  everlasting  crown.  And 
whilst  for  himself  he  wins  the  snowy  robe  and  the 
immortal  palm,  for  the  world  he  earns  its  true  tran- 
quillity. The  sufferer  for  a  great  principle  is  a  saviour 
of  society  ;  and  the  sufferer  for  the  gospel  is  a  bene- 
factor to  mankind.  And,  therefore,  foreseeing  all  the 
"greatfight  of  afflictions"  that  awaited  His  affectionate 
followers ;  beholding  in  this  dark  deed  of  Herod  the 
first  of  a  long  series  of  atrocities  ;  but  also  foreseeing 
how,  from  the  ashesof  every  pile  would  spring  hundreds 
of  happy  converts,  and  thousands  of  Christian  homes ; 
across  the  Red  Sea  of  martyrdom,  descrying  the  only 
path  to  the  world's  Land  of  Promise;  and  with  His 
own  mind  made  up  to  be  Himself  the  next  who  should 
ford  its  gulf  of  sorrow — the  Saviour  did  not  retrace 
His  steps:  but  now  that  the  herald  was  slain,  and 
with  His  thoughts  constantly  travelling  to  that  en- 
sanguined dungeon  where  John  had  finished  his  testi- 
mony, the  Prince  of  Peace  Himself  took  up  the  topic, 
and  discoursed  to  eager  listeners  "  concerning  the 
kingdom  of  God."* 

For,  betwixt  the  fame  of  His  wonders,  and  the 

•  Luke  ix.  11. 


150  MIRACLES. 

avidity  to  hear  His  words,  it  was  not  long  till  the 
solitary  place  beeame  a  vast  conventicle.  And  as 
from  the  eminence  where  they  sate  Jesus  looked  down 
and  saw  the  streams  of  pilgrims  flowing  in  from  every 
northern  path,  adverting  to  the  unpeopled  character 
of  that  up-land  region,  He  said  to  Philip,  who  was  a 
native  of  the  place,*  u  Whence  shall  we  buy  bread, 
that  they  may  eat?"  and  Philip's  answer  indicated 
that,  even  if  the  shops  of  Bethsaida  could  furnish  a 
sufficient  supply,  it  would  cost  all  the  money  they 
had  amongst  them  to  feed  such  a  multitude.  "  Know- 
ing what  he  would  do,"  and  touched  with  the  case 
of  a  people  who  had  neither  a  good  prince  to  rule 
them  nor  kind  pastors  to  teach  them,  Jesus  neither 
resented  the  invasion  of  his  retirement,  nor  sought 
a  more  secluded  resting-place,  but  devoted  the  day 
to  these  "  sheep  without  a  shepherd."  Such  of  them 
as  needed  healing,  He  cured  of  their  diseases  ;  and  to 
all  of  them  He  discoursed  at  length  on  the  things  of  the 
kingdom.  But  at  last  the  apostles  grew  uneasy.  The 
shadows  were  lengthening,  and  night  would  soon 
enclose  them.  So  they  went  up  to  their  Master,  and 
said,  "  This  is  a  desert  place,  and  now  the  day  is  far 
passed ;  send  them  away,  that  they  may  go  into  the 
country  round  about,  and  into  the  villages,  and  buy 
themselves  bread:  for  they  have  nothing  to  eat." 
Jesus  said,  "  They  need  not  depart ;  give  ye  them  to 

*  John  vi.  5. 


THE  MULTITUDE  FED.  151 

eat."  Like  Philip,  thinking  how  a  single  meal  to 
such  a  company  would  exhaust  their  capital,  the  two 
hundred  pence  which  was  probably  the  sum  then  in 
their  common  purse,  they  answered,  u  Shall  we  go 
and  buy  two  hundred  pennyworth  of  bread,  and  give 
them  to  eat?''  He  replied,  "  How  many  loaves  have 
ye?  go  and  see."  Andrew  reported,  "  There  is  a  lad 
here  who  hath  five  barley  loaves  and  two  little  fishes ; 
but  what  are  these  among  so  many  ?"  But  just  as  if 
it  were  ample  provision,  Jesus  bade  them  bring  it  j 
and  in  the  meanwhile,  He  directed  the  disciples  to 
arrange  the  crowd,  seating  them  fifty  in  a  row,  and 
facing  one  another,  so  that  the  entire  concourse  was 
disposed  in  some  fifty  groups  of  a  hundred  each. 
And  when  all  were  ready,  Jesus  took  the  loaves  and 
fishes,  and  lifting  up  His  eyes  to  heaven,  He  thanked 
the  Giver  of  all  good.  How  strange  to  see  Him  stand- 
ing with  these  barley  cakes  in  one  hand,  and  these 
two  small  fishes  in  the  other,  whilst  the  hungry  mul- 
titude were  waiting  for  a  meal !  And  yet  how  like 
the  position  of  Israel's  tented  million,  when  there  was 
not  a  handful  of  com  in  all  the  camp,  but  heaven  was 
about  to  rain  the  bread  of  angels  at  every  door !  And 
now,  breaking  up  the  loaves,  He  handed  them  to  the 
disciples ;  and  passing  down  the  several  ranges,  the 
[plea  distributed  to  all  the  five  thousand  guests, 
and  repeated  the  same  process  with  the  fishes,  till 
"  they  did  all  eat,  and  were  filled."     Then,  when  the 


152  MIRACLES. 

hunger  of  each  was  satisfied,  Jesus  said  to  the  dis- 
ciples, "  Gather  up  the  fragments  that  remain,  that 
nothing  be  lost;"  and  making  another  tour  of  the 
company,  each  disciple  filled  his  basket,  so  that  not 
only  was  the  bread  so  multiplied  that  the  small 
loaves,  which  could  scarcely  have  sufficed  one  little 
family,  feasted  several  thousands;  but  the  manifold 
wonder  was  crowned  when  the  broken  pieces  so  far 
exceeded  the  original  supply. 

This  is  one  of  a  few  miracles  which  benefited  a 
large  multitude  at  once.  A  solitary  paralytic — "  a 
few  sick  folk" — two  demoniacs — ten  lepers — it  was 
usually  on  single  sufferers  or  little  groups  that  the 
beneficence  of  the  Saviour  was  expended.  But  here, 
as  on  a  similar  occasion  subsequently,  not  units  but 
thousands  came  in  for  a  share  in  His  great  liberality. 
And  though  the  gratitude  of  a  multitude  is  seldom  so 
intense  as  the  gratitude  of  an  individual  or  a  family ; 
though  even  in  the  case  of  the  ten  lepers  the  sense  of 
obligation  was  so  diluted  that  only  one  of  the  ten 
felt  constrained  to  thank  his  benefactor ;  or,  to  take 
the  highest  of  all  illustra  on  —that  mercy  which 
extends  to  millions — though  lew  feel  so  grateful  for 
that  widely-shared  blessing,  salvation,  as  to  say, 
" Thanks  be  to  God  for  His  unspeakable  gift:"  yet 
still,  wide-reaching  blessings  are  the  way  of  the 
Most  High,  and  gifts  which  gladden  thousands  are 
God-like.      And  although   it  may  be  true  that  the 


THE  MULTITUDE  FED.  153 

bosoms  in  which  the  mercy  of  Jesus  lingered  most 
tenderly  were  such  as  blind  Bartimeus  and  the  widow 
of  Nam,  Simon's  wife's  mother  and  the  sisters  of 
Lazarus,  still  it  was  fitting  that  some  signs  and 
wonders  should  be  scattered  more  broad-cast,  and  that 
a  palpable  proof  should  be  given,  that  if  any  distress 
still  lingered  among  the  millions  of  mankind,  it  was 
not  because  there  was  not  present  a  Power  able  to 
heal  them.  Accordingly,  such  as  had  need  of  heal- 
ing He  cured  of  their  diseases,  and,  along  with  all 
the  rest,  regaled  them  with  a  banquet,  the  product  of 
immediate  and  manifest  omnipotence. 


%\t  £«t  of  (gaRIte:  C^  Cmjpt  OTefc. 

Christ  had  fed  five  thousand  with  five  loaves  and  two 
fishes.  The  miracle,  in  connexion  with  His  discourses, 
at  once  suggested  to  the  multitude  that  lawgiver  who 
fed  the  fathers  with  manna  in  the  desert,  and  they 
began  to  whisper  their  surmise  to  one  another,  till  the 
rumour  ran, "  Verily,  this  is  that  Prophet  who  is  to 
come  into  the  world."  Like  unto  Moses,  like  the 
great  lawgiver  in  his  prodigies,  and  like  him  in  his 
peerless  revelations  of  the  mind  of  God,  and  coming 
at  the  predicted  conjuncture,  why  should  they  defer 
any  longer?  Instead  of  the  besotted  and  imbecile 
Herod,  and  as  a  deliverer  from  the  modern  Pharaoh, 
the  taskmaster  Roman,  why  should  they  not  obey 
the  indications  of  Providence,  and  install  at  once  as 
their  monarch  a  Prophet  whose  band  was  a  horn  of 
plenty,  and  His  lips  a  lively  oracle  ? 

Jesus  knew  their  thoughts,  and  He  deprecated  such 
procedure.  To  be  king  of  the  Jews  was  to  Him  no 
ambition  ;  and  a  popular  rising,  a  tumultuary  procla- 
mation of  a  rival  prince,  would  only  bring  misery  on 


THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE:    THE  TEMPEST  STILLED.      155 

His  kindred,  the  obscure  descendants  of  David,  and 
famish  a  pretext  to  His  priestly  enemies.  Christ's 
kingdom  was  not  of  this  world  ;  and  up  to  the  last 
K-eek  of  His  mortal  life — up  to  the  time  of  that  pro- 
session  from  Jericho  to  Jerusalem,  when  the  pent-up 
enthusiasm  of  years  burst  forth  in  "  hosannas  to  the 
Son  of  David" — He  never  permitted  any  demonstra- 
tion which  might  either  alarm  the  rulers  or  compro- 
mise His  apostles.  And  as  He  could  see  the  movement 
in  the  concourse,  and  as  He  knew  that  the  populace 
would  have  abettors,  all  too  eager,  in  His  own  dis- 
ciples— in  the  men  who  panted  for  high  places  in  the 
coming  kingdom — u  he  constrained  his  disciples  to 
get  into  a  ship,"  and  go  before  Him  to  Bethsaida; 
whilst,  relieved  of  their  presence,  He  himself  under- 
took to  dismiss  the  multitude. 

Soon  was  the  encampment  broken  up,  and,  with 
thankful  acknowledgments  on  the  one  side,  and  kind 
and  gentle  parting  counsels  on  the  other,  the  crowd 
melted  away.  The  last  stragglers  had  rounded  the 
shoulder  of  the  hill ;  and  yonder  pinnace  on  the  lake 
would  be  the  boat  with  the  twelve.  All  was  growing 
silent  and  cool ;  and  as  Jesus  sate  in  the  solitude  and 
gazed  on  the  flattened  grass,  where  His  guests  had 
lately  dined,  and  where  the  birds  of  the  air  now 
came  for  their  banquet,  the  curtain  of  darkness  spread 
over  the  scene.  But  He  Himself  did  not  withdraw.  In 
order  to  find  the  society  He  wished,  there  was  no  need 


156  MIRACLES. 

that  He  should  go  to  Bethsaida.  Already  in  that 
solitary  place  His  Father  was  present,  and  Jesus  de- 
signed to  spend  the  night-watches  in  communion 
and  converse  with  Him.  But  whilst  from  that  river 
of  pleasures  He  was  regaling  His  weary  spirit,  and 
fortifying  His  soul  for  further  toils  and  trials,  already 
the  night  wind  sighed  in  the  mountain  glen,  and  loud 
gusts  roaring  down  the  gorge  announced  what  a  wild 
time  the  voyagers  would  be  finding  on  the  water.  But 
it  was  not  till  long  after  midnight  that  Jesus  went  to 
join  them.  Bending  on  their  oars,  and  exerting  all 
their  strength,  they  had  made  only  three  or  four  miles 
against  the  blast,  when  their  practised  eye  espied  an 
object  approaching  from  the  shore.  No  ship,  no 
osprey  skimming  with  outspread  wings, — now  hid 
behind  a  lofty  billow,  now  poising  on  its  crest — it  must 
surely  be  a  spirit,  the  guardian  angel  of  the  lake,  or 
some  phantom  from  the  unseen  world ;  and  as  they 
dropped  their  oars,  a  cry  of  consternation  reached  the 
mysterious  pilgrim,  now  plainly  a  human  figure,  and 
who  looked  as  if  he  were  passing  by.*  Instantly, 
however,  and  not  desiring  to  practise  on  their  fears, 
Jesus  exclaimed,  u.  Be  of  good  cheer :  it  is  I ;  be  not 
afraid."  In  thr  harness,  and  in  the  lull  of  the  tem- 
pest, Peter  was  sure  it  was  the  Master;  and  starting 
up,  he  called  out,  "  Lord,  if  it  be  thou,  command  me 
to  come  to  thee  on  the  water."     Whilst,  doubtless, 

*  Mark  vi.  48  ;  Matt.  xiv.  22,  23. 


THE  SEA  OP  GALILEE  :   THE  TEMPEST  STILLED.      1(57 

designed  as  a  tribute  to  his  Master's  might,  possibly  a 
certain  measure  of  curiosity  and  vanity  might  ming'e 
with  the  offer,  and  Peter  might  feel,  u  I,  too,  would  like 
to  do  as  much :  I  wonder  if  I,  too,  could  tread  the 
sea."  And  as  Jesus  bade  him  "  come,"  he  vaulted 
from  the  vessel's  edge ;  but  possibly  just  then  a  squall 
struck  up,  and  as  in  a  moment  Peter  realised  his  pre- 
dicament— the  black  gulf  below,  and  the  angry  waves 
all  round — he  rued  his  rashness ;  a  panic  seized  him  ; 
the  liquid  pavement  yielded,  and  in  the  cold  abyss  he 
would  have  settled  down,  had  not  an  outstretched  hand 
forthwith  met  his  cry  of  terror,  and  raised  him  to  the 
surface,  and  borne  him  up  the  vessel's  side.  That 
instant  the  wind  ceased ;  and  the  grateful  voyagers 
came  and  worshipped  Jesus,  saying,  "  Of  a  truth 
thou  art  the  Son  of  God :  "  and  just  as  yester  evening 
the  miraculous  feast  had  made  them  believers,  but 
in  the  interval  the  storm  had  anew  made  them  infidels, 
so  once  more  they  yielded  to  their  amazement,  and 
felt  as  if  their  faith  could  never  fail  them  again. 

An  incident  which  shews  the  fugacity  of  our  con- 
victions :  how  faint  and  fleeting  are  our  strongest 
impressions.  Perhaps  the  disciples  were  a  little  mor- 
tified at  being  sent  on  shipboard,  when  they  expected 
in  a  few  minutes  to  hear  their  Master  proclaimed 
King  of  Israel ;  but  whatever  might  be  their  feeling, 
they  had  come  away  direct  from  a  wonderful  scene — 
a  scene  quite  as  wonderful  as  if  their  Master  had  bidden 


158  MIRACLES. 

the  firmament  open  and  rain  loaves  on  the  multi- 
tude. They  could  hardly  help  feeling,  what  even  the 
strangers  felt,  that  this  was  "  the  Prophet,"  in  very 
deed  the  Son  of  God,  as  they  themselves  had  often 
hailed  Him.  But  the  wind  fell  contrary.  They  had 
to  haul  down  the  yard,  and  fold  away  the  sail ;  and, 
weary  as  they  were,  they  must  needs  get  out  the  oars 
and  take  to  rowing.  This  made  them  cross  and  sul- 
len, and  haply,  in  some  hearts,  the  thought  was  rising, 
Could  not  this  man  who  gave  these  strangers  such  a 
feast,  have  given  his  own  servants  fair  weather  ?  At 
all  events,  they  were  not  so  favoured  as  on  a  former 
voyage.  There  was  no  Jesus  asleep  in  the  hinder 
part  of  the  ship,  whom  they  could  go  and  awaken, 
with  the  demand,  "  Master,  carest  thou  not  that  we 
perish  ?  "  That  of  itself  was  perplexing.  Their  pre- 
vious perils  He  had  always  shared,  and  out  of  them 
all  delivered  them  ;  but  this  time  there  was  no  hope 
from  that  quarter,  for  in  quitting  the  solitary  place, 
they  had  taken  the  only  vessel  with  them  :  and  now 
they  felt  very  disheartened  and  forlorn,  and  thought 
it  quite  possible  they  might  perish,  and  their  Master 
far  away. 

A  fluctuation  of  feeling  which  happens  constantly. 
Heading  some  work  of  Christian  evidence,  you  felt  so 
certain  that  the  saying  is  faithful,  "  Christ  Jesu3 
came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners,"  that  you  said  to 
yourself,  That  point  is  settled :  that  fact  is  history : 


THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE:   THE  TEMPEST  STILLED.       159 

by  that  conclusion  I  abide  for  ever.  But  by-and-by, 
in  some  cold  sophistical  society,  among  cavilling 
acquaintances,  your  mind  was  unhinged  or  your  soul 
was  frost-bitten ;  there  was  no  longer  the  same  point 
and  precision  in  the  proof;  or  you  exemplified,  what 
we  so  often  see,  the  difference  between  the  fact  that  is 
firm  and  the  heart  that  is  fixed.  Or,  when  in  distress 
about  your  soul,  you  took  up  the  Bible,  and  you  were 
directed  to  some  gospel  with  Heaven's  sunshine 
beaming  over  it,  and  you  said,  u  Bless  the  Lord,  O 
my  soul,  who  forgiveth  all  thine  iniquities,  who 
healeth  all  thy  diseases  ; "  and  you  resolved  that, 
whatever  you  might  hereafter  forget,  you  would  never 
forget  the  good-will  of  God  and  the  merits  of  Im- 
manuel — that,  whatever  else  you  might  doubt,  you 
would  never  question  the  amplitude  of  the  atonement 
and  the  security  of  the  sinner  who  pleads  it.  You 
had  found  a  pearl  of  great  price,  and  silent  tears  or 
outspoken  thanks  proclaimed  your  happiness.  But 
you  fell  asleep  on  some  enchanted  ground,  and  woke 
up  to  find  that  your  treasure  was  gone :  you  came  in 
from  life's  coarse  avocations  and  found  that  the  gem 
in  your  signet  had  dropped  out  whilst  you  dredged  in 
the  ditch  or  moiled  in  the  quarry.  In  the  softness 
of  an  idle  life,  or  the  secularity  of  a  busy  one ;  more 
likely  still,  through  some  sinful  step  or  guilty  con- 
nivance, you  lost  the  blessedness  you  spake  of;  and 
when  sober  or   anxious  moments  came  again,  yon 


160  MIRACLES. 

could  neither  see  the  gospel  so  true,  nor  the  Saviour 
so  gracious,  as.  you  had  seen  them  heretofore.  Or  in 
some  auspicious  season  you  were  so  moved  and 
melted  by  the  goodness  of  the  Lord — you  stood  so 
astonished  at  some  singular  interposition,  some 
miraculous  feast  or  opportune  mercy — that  you  felt 
you  could  never  be  diffident  or  desponding  any  more. 
But  anon,  the  barrel  of  meal  was  failing ;  difficulties 
were  thickening  around  you;  a  tempest  was  rising, 
and  like  the  disciples  sent  into  the  midst  of  a  storm 
when  they  hoped  to  see  a  coronation — like  them  you 
consider  not  the  miracle  of  the  loaves,  for  your  heart 
is  hardened.  You  are  so  mortified  and  so  miserable 
that  you  begin  to  ask,  Hath  God  forgotten  to  be 
gracious?  Hath  He  in  anger  shut  up  His  tender 
mercies  ?  And  it  is  perhaps  more  than  you  can  do 
to  keep  from  calumniating  the  ways  of  Providence, 
and  charging  God  foolishly. 

The  truth  is,  there  is  in  us  no  feeling  permanently 
good  except  what  is  put  there  and  kept  there  by  God 
Himself.  To  a  sinless  being,  the  thing  unnatural  is  to 
doubt  the  goodness  and  the  truth  of  God :  to  a  sinful 
being,  it  is  hard  to  believe  in  the  benevolence  toward 
himself  of  a  holy  God — it  is  hard  to  believe  in  God 
at  alL  And  though  strength  of  evidence — though 
stress  of  argument  may  sometimes  make  us  fancy 
that  we  are  thoroughly  convinced — though  a  brilliant 
presentation  of  the  truth,  or  a  striking  Providence 


THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE.  161 

may  intensify  our  indolent  assent  into  a  transient 
assurance  or  fervid  emotion,  in  order  to  sustain  the 
right  feeling,  nothing  less  will  suffice  than  a  constant 
interposition  of  God's  own  Spirit,  who  alone  can  con- 
quer into  a  habitual  dependence  on  God  our  carnal 
enmity. 

For  the  presence  of  that  Comforter — for  the  calm 
and  continuous  convictions  which  He  imparts — let  us 
ever  pray ;  and  whilst  the  men  whom  Moses,  and  the 
prophets,  and  a  Saviour  risen  from  the  dead,  cannot 
convince — whilst  they  keep  ever  repeating,  "  Rabbi, 
shew  us  another  sign  " — be  ours  the  apostles'  wiser 
petition,  "  Lord,  increase  our  faith."  Whilst  the 
morbid  appetite  for  marvels  keeps  ever  crying,  "  Give, 
give,"  let  us,  as  we  gaze  on  the  marvels,  covet  earnestly 
that  best  gift,  a  sincere  and  docile  spirit — a  purged 
and  open  eye.  Equally  remote  from  that  scepticism 
which  forgets  what  a  few  hours  ago  its  own  hands 
were  handling,  and  that  superstition  which  descries  a 
phantom  more  readily  than  a  living  Saviour,  let  us 
pray  for  that  faith  which,  lulling  the  storm  in  the 
mariner,  will  leave  us  no  longer  so  many  Reubens, 
"  unstable  as  water,"  and  who  can  never  "  prevail." 
Let  us  pray  for  that  faith  which,  stilling  the  fears  and 
fancies  that  tumultuate  through  our  own  soul,  will 
]>  ;i\e  a  great  calm,  in  the  midst  of  which  we  may  fall 
down  and  worship  the  Son  of  God. 

Again  :  The  experience  of  Peter  shews  us  the  dis- 


162  miracles. 

tinction  betwixt  faitli  and  physical  courage  —  the 
difference,  some  would  say,  betwixt  faith  and  forward- 
ness. There  was  no  occasion  for  Peter  to  adventure 
on  the  deep.  In  a  few  moments  the  Master  wo  aid 
have  been  on  board.  But  the  apostle  felt  an  impulse 
— the  same  generous  sort  of  impulse  which,  after  his 
Lord's  resurrection,  espying  Jesus  on  the  shore,  would 
not  wait  till  the  vessel  was  worked  to  land,  but 
bounded  over  the  side  and  swam.  He  felt  an  impulse, 
and  betwixt  his  eagerness  and  his  wish  to  walk  on  the 
water,  he  volunteered  to  come  to  Jesus.  But  no  sooner 
did  he  feel  the  cold  waves  swinging  beneath  the  soles 
of  his  feet,  and  perceive  the  breakers  curling  on  every 
side,  than  his  courage  froze,  and  he  gave  himself  up 
for  a  drowning  man.  Perhaps  there  were  in  the  same 
ship  men  of  less  courage  but  more  faith.  Had  Jesus 
said  to  John,  u  Come  to  me  on  the  water,"  most  likely 
John  would  have  obeyed,  and  scarce  been  conscious 
of  the  warring  elements.  Nay,  we  could  conceive  a 
disciple  there,  so  timid,  so  nervous  and  fearful,  that 
he  could  only  envy  Peter's  valour :  and  yet  had  Jesus 
called  to  him,  we  could  imagine  that  shaking  reed 
complying,  and  achieving  in  safety  the  feat  which 
proved  too  hard  for  Simon. 

Yet  we  are  very  apt  to  confound  with  Christian 
faith  the  .forwardness  of  a  precipitate  spirit,  or  the 
fervour  of  a  bold  one.  But,  without  disparaging 
firm  nerves,  and  without  deprecating  the  frankness 


THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE.  163 

which  is  affectionate  and  not  officious,  there  is  a  great 
difference  betwixt  a  brisk  spirit  or  a  brave  animal  on 
the  one  side,  and  a  devout  believer  on  the  other. 
The  advantage  is  all  with  the  latter.  And  if,  in 
looking  to  the  future,  you  sometimes  fear,  "  I  do  not 
know  how  I  shall  ever  surmount  that  trial:  I  tremble 
at  the  prospect  of  that  ordeal :  it  is  like  passing 
through  fire  and  through  water :  I  do  not  think  I  can 
bear  that  pain.  How  I  envy  such  a  one's  hardy 
frame,  or  such  another's  heroic  temper :  but  as  for 
me  I  am  a  worm  and  no  man:"  if  that  consciousness 
of  weakness  shut  you  up  to  all-sufficiency,  you  will 
be  more  than  conqueror.  The  temptation  will  be 
fully  vanquished  when  the  Saviour  fights  the  battle 
for  you.  The  affliction  will  be  light  when  the  ever- 
lasting arms  are  carrying  at  once  the  burden  and  the 
burden-bearer.  The  pain  will  be  easily  borne  when 
Jesus  lends  you  His  own  strength  to  bear  it  in.  Faith 
is  modest.  It  is  not  rash  and  ultroneous.  It  does 
not  volunteer  a  promenade  on  the  flood,  or  a  flight 
through  the  firmament;  but  there  is  might  in  its 
modesty,  and  when  the  occasion  arrives,  it  knows 
that  the  feet  of  the  petrel  or  the  wings  of  the  eagle 
shall  not  be  awanting.  It  knows  that  Christ  honours 
the  faith  which  honours  Himself;  and  if  it  be  from 
Himself  that  the  invitation  is  issued,  it  will  not  scruple 
to  exchange  at  His  command  the  firm  deck  for  the 
liquid  wave,  or  even  to  tread  the  sea  of  death  in  the 


164  MIRACLES. 

stormiest  night,  if  thus  alone  it  may  arrive  in  His 

presence. 

Then,  again,  the  whole  incident  lets  out  much 
of  the  mind  and  manner  of  our  Lord.  The  multi- 
tudes He  sent  away,  and  in  a  little  while  they 
would  be  fast  asleep,  and  dreaming  of  a  golden  age, 
with  its  wonderful  banquets  and  royal  feastings,  and 
the  Son  of  David  reigning  over  them.  But  for  neither 
Himself  nor  His  apostles  was  any  sleep  designed 
that  night.  He  spent  it  praying:  and  without  in- 
truding into  that  retirement,  from  which  even  James 
and  John  were  sent  away — without  venturing  to  say 
what  were  the  topics  of  the  Mediator's  intercessions  on 
that  and  similar  nights — we  need  not  hesitate  to  say 
that  the  world  is  indebted  to  them  till  this  hour,  and 
will  be  more  indebted  by  and  by.  Like  the  obedi- 
ence which  He  was  daily  rendering,  and  like  the 
sacrifice  which  He  was  soon  to  offer,  these  prayers  of 
the  Son  of  God  were  piacular  and  grace-procuring. 
Like  precious  pledges  left  in  a  distant  territory,  they 
are  a  sign  that  the  place  will  be  revisited,  and  that 
God  has  not  done  with  a  race  whose  Divine  Repre- 
sentative endured  and  asked  so  much.  These  prayers 
of  the  Saviour,  so  full  of  loyalty  to  God  and  of  bene- 
volence towards  His  human  brethren,  are  cords  of 
love  which  link  the  planet  to  the  throne  of  God,  and 
are  earnests  of  a  day  when  the  heathen  shall  be 
Christ's  heritage,  and  the  utmost  parts  of  the  earth 


THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE.  165 

His  possession ;  and  notwithstanding  all  the  fearful 
amount  of  sin  which  cries  to  heaven  for  vengeance, 
so  long  as  one  of  these  prayers  offered  on  the  hills  of 
Galilee  remains  unanswered,  the  world  is  indestruct- 
ible. "  Destroy  it  not,  for  a  blessing  is  in  it."  The 
whole  of  these  mercy-germs  must  spring  up  and  ripen, 
before  the  great  harvest  of  the  earth  is  reaped. 

But  whilst  the  Saviour  was  praying,  His  apostles 
were  toiling  in  rowing.  Whilst  He  was  holding  con- 
genial converse  with  His  Father  in  heaven,  they  were 
maintaining  a  deadly  struggle  with  the  wind  and  the 
waves.  And  does  it  not  seem  somewhat  hard  that 
the  friends  of  Jesus  should  share  neither  the  slumbers 
of  the  multitude  nor  the  devotions  of  their  Master  ? 
la  it  not  hard  that,  whilst  the  five  thousand  are  in 
their  beds,  and  whilst  their  Lord  is  in  the  Mount, 
they  should  be  sent  alone  into  the  heart  of  the  storm 
and  the  dangers  of  the  deep  ?  So,  standing  on  the  sum- 
mit of  an  Alpine  cliff,  and  looking  down  to  the  rocky 
table  where  for  weeks  the  eaglets  have  been  regaled 
with  food  fetched  from  the  valley,  it  seems  harsh  and 
hardly  parental  when  the  eagle  shoves  her  fledgelings 
over  the  face  of  the  cliff,  and,  with  ineffectual  fluttering, 
they  plunge  down  through  the  dizzy  air,  and  would 
be  dashed  to  pieces  did  not  a  lightning  wing  inter- 
cept their  descent,  and  bear  them  back  again  to  the 
eyrie.*      The    Saviour    was    training  His    apostles. 

*  "  He  will  not  bavc  them  to  be  clinging  only  to  the  sense  of  lits  bodily 

ft TT  WTTTWTI  ^VimJ 


166  MIRACLES. 

He  was  educating  them  for  a  life  in  which  cold 
and  hunger,  weariness  and  watching,  and  the  perils 
of  the  deep,  should  be  no  small  ingredient,  but 
where  faith  in  Himself,  where  the  assurance  of  His 
perpetual  presence  and  unchanging  love,  should 
be  their  constant  recourse.  And  see  by  what 
beautiful  gradations  He  taught  them  the  lesson. 
See  by  what  progressive  steps  He  inured  them 
to  that  life  of  calmness  in  peril  and  joy  in  dis- 
tress. First  of  all,  He  embarks  with  them,  but  so 
far  secludes  Himself  from  their  approach.  He  lays 
His  weary  head  on  a  pillow,  and  when  the  squall 
bursts  on  the  lake  He  still  continues  to  sleep,  and 
they  scarcely  like  to  arouse  Him.  But  as  wave  after 
wave  dashes  over  the  deck,  and  already  the  craft  rolls 
in  the  water,  they  exclaim,  "  Master,  carest  thou  not 
that  we  perish?"  and,  mildly  arising,  He  looks  out 
on  the  tempest,  and  says,  "  Peace,  be  still ;"  and,  as 
the  petulant  billows  hide  their  heads,  with  magic 
speed  across  the  willing  lake  the  vessel  glides  into  her 
haven.  But  this  time  He  secludes  Himself  from  their 
approach  more  effectually.  Instead  of  shutting  Him- 
self up  in  slumber,  He  shuts  Himself  out  of  the  ship 
altogether,  and  sends  them  to  sea  alone.      They  felt 

presence, — as  ivy,  needing  always  an  outward  support, — but  as  hardy- 
forest  trees  which  can  brave  a  blast ;  and  this  time  he  puts  them  forth 
into  the  danger  alone,  even  as  some  loving  mother-bird  thrusts  her  fledge- 
lings from  the  nest,  that  they  may  find  their  own  wings  and  learn  to  use 
them."— Trench  on  the  Parables. 


THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE.  167 

it  hard.  They  feared  they  were  forgotten.  And  it 
was  not  till  He  stepped  into  the  ship,  and  the  wind 
ceased,  fhat  they  felt  how  unjust  were  their  murmur- 
ings,  and  knew  that,  though  miles  lay  between,  every 
he  of  the  oar,  and  every  strain  of  the  timbers,  and 
every  stress  of  the  tempest,  was  marked  by  their 
Master  far  ZW&y,  And  thus  were  Ujsy  gradually 
prepared  for  such  scenes  as  the  close  of  the  apostolic 
history  so  vividly  describes — scenes  where  Christ's 
realised  presence  gave  the  sublimity  of  a  commander, 
and,  had  he  chosen,  would  have  secured  the  honours 
of  a  demigod  to  a  captive  disciple — scenes  where,  no 
small  tempest  lying  on  it,  and  the  water-logged  vessel 
drifting,  not  on  an  inland  lake,  but  over  the  wild 
Mediterranean,  secure  in  his  Master's  presence,  the 
Hebrew  prisoner  paced  the  deck,  the  only  cheerful 
passenger,  and  soldiers  and  sailors,  centurion  and 
captain,  were  fain  to  take  their  orders  from  one  whom 
faith  in  an  unseen  Saviour  had  suddenly  revealed  as  a 
king  of  men. 


t  Jfame  if  %vm. 


SUCCESSFUL   INTERCESSION. 

In  the  old  time  and  in  the  Holy  Land,  on  the  shores 
of  a  beautiful  lake,  stood  a  straggling  village.  Some 
of  its  houses  belonged  to  farmers  and  shepherds,  and 
some  of  them  were  fishermen's  huts.  But  tall  above 
the  rest  rose  a  nobleman's  mansion.  Its  owner  wa3 
a  friend  of  the  king,*  and  often  went  to  the  palace. 
He  had  one  son  whom  he  tenderly  loved,  and  who, 
we  dare  say,  he  hoped  would  grow  up  to  be  a  favourite 
at  court,  as  well  as  the  heir  of  his  own  wealth  and 
titles.  Like  the  other  boys  of  Capernaum,  no  duubt 
the  little  noble  had  often  sailed  his  mimic  boat  on 
the  edge  of  Gennesaret,  and  explored  the  haunts  of 
the  conies  and  rock-pigeons  up  among  the  hills. 
But  he  was  struck  by  a  mortal  sickness.  His  limbs 
shook  and  burned  in  the  fever,  and  he  could  hardly 
lift  his  head  from  the  pillow.      His  father  got  the 

*  From  the  term  in  the  original  it  would  appear  that  the  nobleman 
held  some  office  at  court. 


THE  FAME  OF  JESUS.  169 

best  advice,  but  the  doctors  could  do  him  no  good. 
The  great  house  was  already  beginning  to  wear  that 
awe-s*ruck  aspect  which  a  house  puts  on  when  it 
expects  a  visit  from  the  king  of  terrors ;  and  when 
neighbours  inquired  for  the  little  lord,  it  was  always 
the  same  answer,  "  He  is  not  any  better."  The 
father  saw  him  getting  worse.  Every  time  that  he 
stole  into  the  dim  chamber  and  stood  over  the  young 
sufferer,  it  was  a  more  languid  smile  which  returned 
his  greeting — it  was  a  weaker  and  hotter  little  hand 
he  grasped  in  his.  Even  the  sanguine  father  ceased 
to  hope,  and,  as  he  paced  the  hushed  apartments,  the 
bow  and  quiver  and  other  neglected  toys  of  the 
poor  patient  began  to  look  like  relics.  Their  owner 
would  never  handle  them  any  more. 

At  this  time,  however,  a  wondrous  rumour  spread 
rapidly  through  all  the  Holy  Land.  A  prophet  had 
appeared,  so  mighty  and  so  good  that  many  thought 
him  Messiah.  Some  of  the  nobleman's  neighbours 
had  lately  seen  Him  at  Jerusalem,  and  they  could  tell 
what  prodigies  He  had  wrought,  and  what  heavenly 
words  He  had  spoken.  A  thought  crossed  the  anxious 
parent's  mind.  Perhaps,  like  another  Elisha,  this 
great  prophet  could  heal  his  dying  child.  But,  to  so 
great  a  prophet  would  it  be  sufficiently  respectful  to 
send  a  mere  messenger  ?  And  what  if  that  messenger 
should  linger  by  the  way,  or  should  somehow  mis- 
manage the  business?      Yes,  he  would  go  himself. 


170  MIRACLES. 

He  would  take  another  glimpse  of  the  dear  child,  and 
then  set  out  for  Cana. 

As  he  posted  the  thirty  miles,  through  budding 
vineyards  and  green  fields,  many  a  thought  rose  in 
his  bosom  :  a  wonder  whether  this  great  prophet 
were  indeed  the  Christ — a  wonder  if  he  were  still  at 
Cana — a  wonder  if  he  could  be  persuaded  to  under- 
take such  a  distant  expedition — a  wonder  if  even  this 
would  avail.  Still,  he  felt  as  if  he  were  carrying  in 
his  arms  his  dying  boy,  and  the  burden  at  his  heart 
gave  speed  and  perseverance  to  his  feet.  Noon  was  just 
past,  and  the  villagers  were  reposing  after  their  mid-day 
meal,  when  the  pilgrim  espied  in  the  valley  the  peace- 
ful hamlet,  the  goal  of  his  anxious  journey.  Its 
wonderful  guest  had  not  yet  departed,  and,  without 
any  introduction,  the  agitated  father  at  once  accosted 
him  :  u  Sir,  come  down,  and  heal  my  son ;  for  he  is 
at  the  point  of  death."  Already,  with  their  morbid 
appetite  for  the  marvellous,  some  of  the  Galileans  had 
gathered  around  him  ;  for  Jesus  answered,  "  Except 
ye  see  signs  and  wonders,  ye  will  not  believe."  The 
suppliant  did  not  argue  the  point.  Doubtless,  he  felt 
the  reproof  was  well-merited  ;  but,  with  the  urgency 
of  agonised  affection,  he  only  repeated  his  prayer, 
"  Sir,  come  down,  ere  my  son  die."  There  is  One 
who  giveth  liberally  and  upbraideth  not;  and  the 
Man  of  Sorrows  was  not  the  man  who  would  upbraid 
a  breaking  heart.     AVith  the  look  of  one  who  wills 


THE  FAME  OF  JESUS.  171 

and  it  is  done,  and  in  a  tone  of  tender  assurance, 
Jesn3  instantly  answered,  "  Go  thy  way ;  thy  son 
liveth."  In  that  sympathising  look  the  father  recog- 
nised omnipotence;  in  that  gentle  voice  he  owned 
the  Almighty  fiat :  and,  convinced  that  all  was  well, 
the  pilgrim  resumed  the  road  to  Capernaum.  The 
voice  of  the  turtle  was  heard  in  the  land,  and  on  his 
homeward  way  his  singing  heart  re-echoed  the  music 
of  spring.  To  the  eye  of  his  faith,  his  son  was  again 
in  health  and  gleesome  vigour ;  to  the  same  eye, 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  the  Christ  of  God :  and, 
earnest  of  the  new  life  in  his  dwelling,  he  felt  a  new 
life  in  his  soul.  Nor  did  he  need  to  wait  till  next 
day  restored  him  to  his  mansion ;  for  here,  along  the 
road,  come  the  joyful  servants  to  tell  the  news  already 
known  so  well.  "  Thy  son  liveth."  "  Yesterday,  at 
one  in  the  afternoon,  the  fever  left  him."  Yes,  at  one 
in  the  afternoon,  and  when  the  anguish-stricken 
father  had  been  a  day's  march  distant,  interceding 
with  Jesus,  the  fever  vanished.  It  was  not  that  the 
patient  revived ;  it  was  not  that  his  ebbing  strength 
had  rallied ;  it  was  not  that  the  disease  had  taken  a 
turn ;  but  it  had  absolutely  gone  away.  The  fever 
left  him,  and  the  lad  was  well.  Oh,  happy  father! 
oh,  kind  and  mighty  Jesus! 

The  servants  told  their  master  about  his  son,  and 
now  he  told  them  about  the  Saviour.  They  had 
heard  much  concerning  Jesus  already,  and  now  in 


172  MIRACLES. 

their  gladness  they  believed  it  all.  As  Messiah,  and 
as  all  which  He  claimed  to  be,  they  hailed  their 
wondrous  benefactor.  It  was  a  believing  family. 
The  father  believed,  and  so  did  his  recovered  son,  and 
so  did  these  kind-hearted  servants.  Sickness  left 
the  house,  and  salvation  came  to  it.  And,  although 
usually  they  were  u  the  common  people  "  who  heard 
Him  most  gladly,  among  the  first-fruits  of  the  Saviour's 
ministry  were  a  Hebrew  noble  and  his  family. 

Two  years  passed  on,  and  this  beneficent  career 
was  near  its  ending.  The  same  sweet  season  had 
returned,  when  new  leaves  are  on  the  tree  and  twitter- 
ing broods  are  in  the  nest,  and  all  the  Holy  Land  was 
moving  towards  Jerusalem.  But  from  the  stream  of 
pilgrims  Jesus  and  His  disciples  fell  aside.  To  escape 
the  double  danger  of  priestly  intrigues,  and  a  tumul- 
tuary coronation  on  the  part  of  the  people,  the  Saviour 
retired  to  the  furthest  limit  of  the  country,  and  spent 
a  little  while  on  the  border  of  Tyre  and  Sidon. 

Thither  the  fame  of  His  wonders  had  already  pene- 
trated from  the  neighbouring  Galilee.  In  the  general 
mind  it  had  only  awakened  surprise  or  curiosity; 
but  there  was  one  poor  woman  who  heard  it  with 
intensest  interest.  She  was  not  one  of  the  favoured 
people.  She  was  not  by  descent  a  daughter  of 
Abraham.  She  belonged  to  that  brisk  and  busy 
nation  whose  bold  argosies  used  to  fetch  tin  from  our 


THE  FAME  OF  JESUS.  173 

own  Albion,  and  whose  pushing  traders  had  colonised 
Tyre,  Carthage,  Corinth,  Syracuse,  and  nearly  all  the 
mighty  marts  of  the  Mediterranean.  But  the  Phoe- 
nicians were  pagans.  They  worshipped  marble 
statues  of  Jupiter  and  Mars,  and  other  old  heroes, 
and  to  the  Jews  they  were  peculiarly  obnoxious  as 
the  descendants  of  Canaan,  the  worst  progeny  of 
Ham.  Happily  for  herself,  however,  this  Syro- 
Phcenician  lived  on  the  confines  of  the  Holy  Land, 
and  she  had  heard  the  fame  of  Jesus.  She  knew  the 
Hebrew  expectation  of  Messiah,  and  there  were 
circumstances  which  quickened  her  acuteness,  and 
which  enabled  her  to  identify  the  Son  of  David 
sooner  than  many  of  His  own  compatriots. 

She  had  a  young  daughter.  No  doubt  she  had  set 
great  store  on  the  little  girl,  and  had  been  cheered 
through  all  her  wakeful  nights  and  toiling  days  by 
the  hope  of  what  she  was  yet  to  be.  But  the  hope 
was  blasted.  How  it  came  about  we  do  not  know  ; 
but  an  evil  spirit,  or  demon,  had  entered  into  her 
child.  There  could  hardly  be  a  more  terrible  trial. 
Just  when  the  fond  mother  was  anticipating  a  com- 
panion and  a  helper  in  the  growing  strength  and 
intelligence  of  her  daughter,  to  have  her  loved  one 
torn  away  in  the  grasp  of  a  fiend — her  reason  frus- 
trated, her  better  will  overborne,  her  conscience  in 
vain  reclaiming — it  was  a  fearful  affliction,  a  daily 
sword  in  that  poor  mother's  soul,  and  to  any  physi- 


174  MIRACLES. 

cian  or  exorcist  who  could  have  given  her  again  her 
child  she  would  not  have  grudged  her  house  full  of 
silver. 

Just  then,  however,  she  heard  of  one  who  was  able. 
For  two  years  in  the  adjacent  Galilee  Jesus  had  been 
healing  "  all  sick  people  that  were  taken  with  divers 
diseases  and  torments,  and  those  who  were  pos- 
sessed with  devils,"  and  il  his  fame  went  throughout 
all  Syria."  *  It  had  reached  the  abode  of  this  dis- 
consolate mother,  and  now  that  a  kind  Providence 
had  brought  the  Gneat  Physician  into  her  immediate 
neighbourhood,  she  hastened  to  consult  him. 

There  is  in  faith  a  sound  logic,  just  as  in  earnest- 
ness there  is  a  deep  divination.  From  the  "fame" 
of  Jesus  the  Canaanite  mother  drew  her  own  conclu- 
sions. She  inferred  that  to  one  endowed  with  such 
virtue  there  must  be  great  delight  in  exercising  it, 
and  that  even  her  case  as  an  alien  would  not  put  her 
beyond  its  reach ;  and  accordingly  her  mind  was 
made  up  to  throw  herself  on  His  mercy,  and  take  no 
refusal.  And  just  as  her  conclusion  was  sound,  so 
her  alertness  was  eager  and  her  penetration  was  keen. 
The  Saviour's  sojourn  was  short.  He  had  come  into 
that  region  incognito.  He  courted  retirement,  and 
instead  of  preaching  in  the  villages  He  "  entered  into 
a  house  and  would  have  no  man  know  it."  But  there 
is  no  ear  so  sensitive  as  maternal   solicitude,  and 

*  Matt.  iv.  24. 


THE  FAME  OF  JESUS.  175 

although  few  in  that  countryside  were  conscious  of 
the  presence  which  now  ennobled  their  borders,  this 
grief-worn  mother  caught  the  sound  of  His  feet,  and 
made  prophetic  music  of  their  beautiful  goings. 
Through  some  friendly  informant  apprised  of  His 
coming,  she  soon  learned  His  retreat,  and  rushed  to 
His  presence.  It  did  not  matter  that  everything 
looked  unpropitious — that  disciples  dissuaded  her  en- 
tering— that  they  represented  that  for  the  time  being 
there  was  a  pause  in  His  miracles,  and  that  she  must 
not  trouble  the  Master.  Nor  did  it  matter  that  the 
Saviour  sat  silent,  and  seemed  almost  to  reprove  her 
intrusion.  Her  heart  was  sharper  than  the  eye  of 
apostles,  and  whilst  they  interpreted  the  cold  look  of 
their  Master  as  a  hint  to  send  her  away,  under  that 
cold  look  the  Spirit  of  God  somehow  assured  her  she 
would  yet  find  a  welcome.  u  Have  mercy  on  me,  0 
Lord,  thou  Son  of  David !  my  daughter  is  grievously 
vexed  with  a  devil."  Such  was  her  vehement  adju- 
ration, as,  with  clasped  hands  and  on  bended  knees, 
she  lay  at  His  feet ;  but  those  that  watched  His  coun- 
tenance saw  in  it  none  of  the  accustomed  compassion ; 
and  as,  without  answering  her  a  single  word,  He  slowly 
rose  and  moved  forth  into  the  open  air,  and  resumed 
the  road  towards  Galilee,*  there  seemed  an  end  of 

*  Such  is  tbe  impression  left  on  our  minds  by  the  narrative.  From 
Mark  (vii.  24,  25)  we  gather  that  He  was  in  the  house  and  wishing  to 
b«  "hid,"  when  the  woman  first  fell  at   His   feet.      Prom  Matthew 


176  MIRACLES. 

hope,  and  the  disciples  fancied  that,  like  themselves, 
their  Lord  regarded  her  as  a  heathen  dog,  on  whom 
the  children's  bread  must  not  be  wasted  Callous  and 
case-hardened  with  that  worldliness  in  which  the  best 
of  men  are  more  or  less  incrusted,  they  did  not  mind 
her  tears,  and  they  did  not  permit  themselves  to 
realise  the  misery  condensed  into  the  bitter  cry,  u  My 
daughter  is  grievously  vexed  with  a  devil.,'  No  ;  to 
them  she  was  not  a  mother  praying  for  her  child,  but 
only  a  troublesome  petitioner — a  foreigner — a  heathen 
— an  accursed  Canaanite.  But  though  they  had  no 
sympathy  with  the  suppliant,  they  were  tired  of  her 
importunity,  and  they  wished  to  put  an  end  to  the 
"scene."  Heartlessly  enough  they  said  to  their 
Lord,  "  Send  her  away,  for  she  keeps  crying  after  us." 
And,  speaking  out  their  thoughts,  He  first  said  to 
them,  "  I  am  not  sent  but  unto  the  lost  sheep  of  the 
house  of  Israel,"  and  to  her,  "  It  is  not  fit  to  take  the 
children's  bread,  and  cast  it  unto  dogs."  u  Truth, 
Lord,"  she  answered,  looking  up  from  the  ground,  on 
which  she  had  again  prostrated  herself — "truth, 
Lord,"  as  much  as  to  say,  i  Yes,  call  us  dogs.  Ig- 
norant, outcast,  impure,  we  idolaters  deserve  no  better 
name.'  "  Yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  which  fall 
from  their  master's  table."  An  atom  of  that  gracious 
power — a   mere   morsel   of  that   mercy  which   has 

(xv.  23-29)  He  appears  to  have  been  on  the  road,  and  "departing 
thence,"  when  He  spoke  the  wished-for  word. 


THE  FAME  OP  JESUS.  177 

made  so  many  blessed  homes  in  Palestine,  would  make 
of  me  a  happy  mother ;  and  thou  art  too  generous  to 
grudge  that  crumb.'  The  point  was  reached  at  which 
the  Saviour  had  all  along  been  aiming.  By  this 
striking  instance,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Centurion,  He 
had  shewed  the  apostles  how  God  can  create  in  Gen- 
tile minds  a  firmer  faith  than  Israel's,  and  had  thus 
prepared  them  for  that  day  not  distant  when  it  would 
be  their  vocation  to  take  Heaven's  bread  and  distri- 
bute it  to  heathen  "  dogs."  The  point  was  reached, 
and  no  sooner  was  this  answer  uttered  than,  like 
the  mask  falling  from  the  face  of  Joseph,  the 
"  strangeness"  fled  from  the  face  of  Jesus,  and  the 
loving-kindness,  long  suppressed,  burst  through. 
"  O  woman,  great  is  thy  faith.  For  this  saying,  go 
thy  way ;  the  devil  is  gone  out  of  thy  daughter." 
The  suppliant  had  all  her  desire ;  the  disciples 
received  a  lesson  ;  the  blessed  Jesus  tasted  once  more 
His  own  joy-creating  luxury, — the  delight  of  doing 
good.  Hasting  to  her  home,  the  thankful  mother 
felt  none  of  those  shadows  thickening  round  her 
which  of  late  had  so  often  saddened  her  approach. 
No  haggard  figure  darted  from  the  door,  and  rushed 
off  towards  the  forest.  No  young  fury  met  her  steps 
in  rage  and  frenzy,  uttering  wild  invectives.  But,  as 
she  lifted  the  latch  and  looked  in,  there  lay  on  the 
couch  a  slight  and  peaceful  form, — her  little  daughter 
as  of  yore,  in  calm  and  holy  slumber.     The  devil 


1 78  MIRACLES. 

was  gone  out,  and  though  the  rage  of  his  departure 
had  left  the  poor  young  patient  spent  and  weary,  he 
would  come  back  no  more  ;  and  as  soon  as  those  pale 
eyelids  opened,  "the  light  of  other  days"  beamed 
forth  on  the  enraptured  mother.  The  Son  of  David 
had  shewed  mercy.  From  that  very  hour  the  damsel 
was  made  whole,  and  doubtless,  if  they  lived  so  long, 
amongst  those  who  u  were  first  called  Christians"  in 
the  neighbouring  Antioch  would  be  herself  and  her 
fond  mother. 

Miracles  of  this  kind  we  do  not  expect  at  present. 
Their  purpose  has  been  served.  They  authenticated 
at  the  time  the  Heavenly  Messenger.  They  roused 
the  stupid  multitude.  But  the  course  of  things  is 
resumed  once  more;  and  as  the  exigencies  of  this 
probationary  disciplinary  state  require  that  we  should 
have  always  with  us  the  sick  and  the  suffering,  as 
well  as  the  poor  and  the  needy,  so  we  do  not  feel 
entitled  to  expect  a  repetition  of  those  gracious  in- 
terpositions which  so  often  startled  an  incredulous 
neighbourhood,  and  which  prepossessed  towards  the 
Great  Evangelist  the  pensioners  of  the  Great  Almoner 
and  the  patients  of  the  Great  Physician.  It  would 
disorganise  society,  and  would  go  far  to  put  an  end 
to  industry,  humanity,  and  forethought,  if  hunger 
could  always  reckon  on  miraculous  loaves,  and  if 
disease  and  pain  could  always  count  on  a  supernatural 


THE  FAME  OF  JESUS.  179 

cure.  But  although,  from  the  necessities  of  the  case, 
the  prodigies  have  ceased,  the  Man  of  Mercies  lives, 
and  that  M  gospel  of  the  kingdom "  for  which  He 
bespoke  a  welcome  by  "  healing  all  manner  of  sick- 
ness and  all  manner  of  disease  among  the  people" — 
for  that  gospel  He  is  as  solicitous  to  gain  each 
heart  amongst  ourselves  as  He  was  to  gain  the  ear 
of  Palestine. 

Let  us  covet  earnestly  the  best  gifts — better 
gifts  than  bodily  cures  and  temporal  boons.  Let  us 
covet  those  gifts  which  Jesus  is  ascended  a  Prince 
and  a  Saviour  to  bestow.  Let  us  covet  those  gifts 
for  contempt  of  which  the  Holy  Land  was,  in  the 
long-run,  so  little  the  better  of  that  Divine  Visitant 
with  whose  fame  for  a  season  it  resounded.  Let  us 
covet  the  remission  of  our  sins  and  the  sweet  sense  of 
reconciliation  with  God.  Let  us  covet  a  meek,  lowly, 
and  obedient  mind,  a  contrite  spirit,  and  a  tender 
conscience.  Let  us  covet  a  holy  disposition,  and 
a  soul  turned  heavenwards.  Let  us  covet  that 
great  gift,  the  Holy  Ghost  the  Comforter.  These  are 
the  blessings  included  in  the  gospel  of  the  kingdom; 
and  in  seeking  them  for  ourselves  and  for  others,  let 
U3  see  what  light  the  incidents  now  reviewed  cast  on 
the  mind  of  the  Saviour. 

1.  We  see  the  honour  which  He  puts  upon  Faith. 
It  was  their  faith  which  brought  both  the  nobleman 
and  the   Syrophenician  to  the  Saviour,  and  it  was 


180  MIRACLES. 

their  faith  which  carried  back  the  blessing.  So  is  it 
still.  Christ  honours  the  faith  which  honours  Him- 
self and  His  Father.  And  if  any  one  asks,  l  How  is 
it  that  I  don't  get  on  ?  I  have  no  assurance  of  God's 
love.  I  have  no  comfort  in  my  religion.  I  gain  no 
ground  against  my  besetting  sin.  I  have  little  en- 
joyment in  prayer,  in  ordinances,  in  the  Word  of 
God : '  the  answer  is,  l  You  don't  get  on  because 
you  don't  go  to  Jesus.  You  have  more  faith  in  dis- 
ciples than  you  have  in  the  Master ;  nay,  you  have 
more  faith  in  yourself  than  you  have  in  the  Saviour.' 
But  it  is  only  the  Lord  Jesus  who  can  really  do  you 
good.  You  cannot  save,  and  you  cannot  sanctify 
yourself.  Christian  friends  cannot  give  you  assur- 
ance. Ministers  cannot  say,  "  Be  it  unto  thee  even 
as  thou  wilt."  But  Jesus  can.  He  has  all  power  in 
heaven  and  on  earth.  Believe  this,  and  act  as  if  you 
believed  it.  Go  to  Him ;  and  even  if  at  first  He 
should  seem  not  to  regard — though  He  should  answer 
you  not  a  word — though  the  first  answer  should  be  dis- 
couraging, "  I  am  not  sent  but  to  the  lost  sheep  of  the 
house  of  Israel" — though  it  should  be  suggested,  f  You 
are  none  of  the  elect,  you  are  none  of  Christ's  sheep, 
you  are  none  of  God's  children,  you  are  a  dog' — be 
not  discouraged.  Think  of  whom  you  are  addressing. 
Think  how  much  more  love  there  is  in  the  heart  of  the 
Saviour  than  in  the  best  of  His  disciples;  and  as  sure 
as  you  persevere,  and  as  sure  as  there  is  mercy  in  the 


THE  FAME  OF  JESUS.  181 

Son  of  David,  at  last  He  will  say,  "  Be  it  unto  thee 
even  as  thou  wilt." 

2.  We  see  the  honour  which  Christ  puts  upon 
natural  affection.  Many  of  the  sick  whom  Jesus 
healed  could  not  come  to  Him.  He  went  to  them,  or 
friends  brought  them  to  Him.  But  in  the  two  in- 
stances now  considered,  it  would  seem  that  even  this 
was  impracticable.  The  dying  youth  could  not  be 
moved;  the  demoniac  would  probably  have  offered 
every  resistance.  And  yet,  in  a  certain  sense,  they 
were  brought  to  Jesus.  In  the  arms  of  faith  and 
affection  their  parents  brought  them ;  and,  although 
casual  observation  noticed  nothing,  the  all-seeing 
Saviour  saw  the  burden  with  which  they  were  heavy 
laden.  As  the  nobleman  entered,  Jesus  saw  next  his 
heart  a  dying  son  ;  as  the  Canaanite  entered  and  sank 
to  the  ground,  He  saw  that  it  was  her  afflicted  child 
who  dragged  the  poor  mother  to  the  dust;  and  although 
in  the  one  case  He  let  it  forth  at  once,  and  in  the 
other  concealed  it  for  a  season,  in  either  case  He  was 
instantly  moved  with  compassion.  The  father's  love, 
the  mother's  yearning,  in  conjunction  with  their  greal 
faith,  at  once  took  hold  of  Immanuel's  sympathy, 
and,  as  effectually  as  if  the  sufferers  had  come  them- 
selves, brought  to  His  lips  the  word  of  healing. 

We  can  no  more  shut  grief  from  our  dwelling  than 
from  our  world  ;  and  the  dearer  the  relation  the  sorei 
is  the  pang.     Tt  is  very  sad  to  see  the  roses  wither, 


182  MIRACLES. 

to  feel  the  thin  palm  so  hot  and  dry,  and  mark  the 
life's  slow  ebbing.  And  it  is  sad  Avhen  the  nurs- 
ing and  the  watching  are  ended — when  the  cheerful 
gleams  and  the  patient  endurance  alike  are  over — 
when  there  is  no  more  wheeling  out  into  the  mellow 
autumn  afternoon — no  more  carrying  up  and  down 
stairs — no  more  favourite  chapters  read — no  more 
hymns  repeated — no  more  tender,  solemn  talk  of  Jesus 
and  the  New  Jerusalem ; — it  is  sad  to  see  the  little 
daughter  in  the  coffin.  But  far  sadder  was  the  case 
of  this  poor  mother.  She  had  still  beside  her  the 
self-same  form.  Yes,  indeed,  this  was  the  very  babe 
that  once  she  dandled — the  little  one  whose  first  lisp- 
ings  were  such  a  wonder  and  delight — the  little 
Syrian  maid  who  felt  so  proud  to  pace  beside  her 
mother,  hand  in  hand,  to  the  village  well,  and  then, 
in  all  the  importance  of  infant  womanhood,  so  gravely 
guarded  the  cradle  of  a  lesser  one.  But,  oh,  how 
changed!  So  rebellious  and  intractable — so  malig- 
nant and  mischievous — so  fearfully  possessed  by  the 
devil.  Happy  neighbour,  who  have  laid  your  little 
damsel  in  the  grave.  And  yet  far  happier  both  the 
mother  of  the  dead  and  the  mother  of  the  demoniac 
than  the  mother  of  the  reprobate.  Happy  those  in 
whose  cup  if  there  is  bitter  sorrow  there  is  not  also 
burning  shame,  and  who,  in  the  day  of  their  sore 
calamity,  are  spared  the  agony  of  crime.  The  body 
may  be  in  the  grave,  and  the  spirit  be  in  parr.dise — 


THE  FAME  OF  JESUS.  183 

the  soul  may  be  the  haunt  of  an  unwelcome  demon, 
and  at  last,  emancipated  from  the  irksome  thraldom, 
may  be  a  bright  and  exulting  angel  before  the  throne. 
But  for  depravity — for  lost  innocence — for  guilt — 
for  this  grief  of  griefs,  is  there  any  balm  in  Gilead  ? 
For  this  sorrow,  surpassing  death,  can  the  Physician 
there  prescribe  ? 

He  can.  And  these  incidents  teach  us  that  the 
best  thing  which  affection  can  do  for  its  objects  is  to 
carry  their  case  to  the  Saviour.  You  have  a  child  or 
dear  relation  who  is  like  to  bring  your  gray  hairs 
with  sorrow  to  the  grave.  And  what  are  you  to  do  ? 
It  seems  as  if  nothing  could  stop  him  in  his  wild 
career.  He  seems  as  if  he  could  not  stop  himself. 
He  really  looks  as  if  he  were  possessed  with  the  devil. 
You  have  got  good  people  to  talk  to  him,  and  you 
have  talked  to  him  yourself.  But  it  was  of  no  use. 
He  did  not  stop  his  ears ;  but  as  for  giving  you  any 
hold  on  his  heart,  his  will,  you  might  as  well  have 
been  a  thousand  miles  away — as  for  giving  you  any 
admission  into  his  real  self,  it  would  have  been  all 
the  same  if  he  had  been  at  the  antipodes.  And  now 
you  have  entirely  lost  sight  of  him.  You  know  not 
where  he  is  ;  and  what  are  you  to  do?  Why,  this: 
You  have  heard  "  the  fame"  of  Jesus.  Go  to  Him, 
and  take  your  child,  your  husband,  your  lost  friend 
with  you.  Take  him,  that  is,  as  the  nobleman  and 
the  woman  took  their  child.     Take  him  in  the  arms 


184  MIRACLES. 

of  believing  and  importunate  intercession.  "  Thou 
Son  of  David,  have  mercy  on  me ;  for  my  beloved 
one  is  grievously  vexed  with  a  devil.  He  is  the 
enemy  of  God,  and  of  his  own  soul.  He  is  the  slave 
of  divers  lusts  and  passions.  Thou  knowest  our 
frame.  Thou  knowest  the  affection  I  feel  for  him. 
Thou  knowest  the  faith  I  have  in  Thee.  0  that 
Ishmael  may  live  before  Thee!  O  that  this  wan- 
derer may  be  restored — this  madman  brought  to  his 
right  mind !  I  know  not  where  he  is  :  at  this  very 
moment  Thou  compassest  his  path,  and  art  acquainted 
with  all  his  ways.  And  although  he  were  here,  he 
could  effectually  exclude  me  from  his  soul's  sanc- 
tuary— from  that  mysterious  shrine  where  sits  alone 
and  inaccessible  the  hidden  man  of  the  heart:  but 
even  at  this  moment,  Thou  who  hast  the  key  of 
David  canst  open  for  Thyself  that  door ;  even  now 
his  heart  is  in  Thy  hand.  Oh,  speak  the  word, 
and  add  a  heaven  to  my  heaven — a  jewel  to  Thy 
crown  I" 


^xstmxm. 


L  Messiah's  manifesto,     the  kingdom, 
O.  A  savioue's  farewell,    the  father's 


It  was  still  early  in  the  Saviour's  ministry.  Only  a 
few  months  had  elapsed  since  JIc?  commenced  His 
miracles  at  Cai:~  •  -binee  He  changer:  the  water  into 
wine,  and  restored  to  health  the  ruler's  son.  It  was 
only  a  short  time  since  He  had  preached  the  gospel 
to  Xicodemus  and  to  the  woman  of  Samaria;  but 
although  He  had  held  many  interviews  with  friends 
and  jofceirera,  and  had  spoken  in  many  ijyna- 
gogues,  He  had  not  yet  given  any  general  or  public 
exposition  of  His  object  and  design.  ]f  He  were 
"the  Prophet,"  He  had  not  unfolded  His  message. 
If  He  were  Messiah,  He  had  not  yet  explained  the 
nature  of  that  kingdom  which  He  had  come  to 
set  up. 

The  occasion  had  now  arrived.  He  had  com- 
pleted an  extensive  circuit  of  Galilee,  during  which 
He  had  come  in  contact  with  great  numbers  of  people, 
and  had  healed  all  the  sick  who  were  brought  to 
Him.  His  fame  spread  u  throughout  Syria,"  and, 
now  that  He  had  returned  to  the  shores  of  Gennesaret, 


188  DISCOURSES. 

He  found  Himself  surrounded  by  an  expectant  multi- 
tude. From  the  edge  of  the  lake,  with  its  fresh 
clear  water  and  its  pebbly  margin,  He  moved  towards 
a  neighbouring  eminence.  The  crowd  followed,  and 
on  reaching  the  top  of  a  little  hill  Jesus  sat  down. 
James  and  John,  Peter  and  Andrew,  and  other 
disciples  drew  near  Him,  and  the  general  audience 
covered  the  platform  beyond. 

We  can  picture  the  scene:  The  little  hill  with 
its  two  terminal  knolls  or  low  horn-like  hummocks, 
and  the  level  space  between.  At  the  base  of  one  of 
these  knolls,  the  wonderful  Teacher — the  possible 
Messiah  —  about  to  open  His  commission  —  His 
countenance  almost  youthful ;  not  yet  "  marred  "  by 
the  career  of  hardship  and  sorrow  on  which  He  had 
entered,  and  in  the  eyes  of  many  among  His  hearers 
still  radiant  with  the  beauty  of  beneficence — that 
lustre  it  wore  when  He  restored  health  to  themselves, 
or  reason  to  their  friends.  Most  of  the  audience  are 
Galileans  —  boatmen  from  the  lake,  little  traders 
from  the  towns,  rustics  from  the  fields  and  vineyards 
— but  mingled  with  them  a  few  of  the  wilder  boors 
from  the  other  side,  a  few  of  the  carefully  attired  and 
more  vivacious  citizens  from  Jerusalem.  Straight 
before  them,  in  silvery  fulness,  spreads  the  Sea  of 
Galilee — its  nearer  margin  fringed  with  palms,  its 
waters  only  ruffled  by  the  creaking  oar,  or  splashed  up 
for  a  moment  by  the  swooping  pelican.     Southward 


Messiah's  manifesto.  189 

soars  into  the  horizon  Tabor,  with  its  copsy  dome; 
and,  though  most  of  the  hamlets  are  hid  in  dells  and 
valleys,  yonder  is  a  white  village  which  has  climbed 
the  steep,  and  which  arrests  the  spectator's  eye — "  a 
city  set  on  a  hill."  It  is  autumn.  Perhaps  already  light 
clouds  fleck  the  firmament,  harbingers  of  the  early 
rain;  and  from  their  rocky  retreats  in  the  adjacent  ra- 
vine flights  of  doves  have  come  forth  to  seek  that  food 
which  careworn  man  must  gather  into  barns.  And 
now  that  all  is  leisure  and  silence — from  no  elevation 
except  the  height  of  His  own  intrinsic  majesty,  and 
with  no  barrier  round  Him  except  His  own  secluding 
sanctity — the  Speaker  opens  His  mouth  and  begins. 
He  begins,  and  the  music  of  His  voice  and  the  glow 
of  His  countenance,  as  well  as  the  first  word  He 
pronounces,  are  each  an  utterance  of  the  "  blessed- 
ness "  within,  which  He  would  fain  transfuse  through 
all  that  listening  throng. 

"  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit:  for  theirs  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven.  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn: 
for  they  shall  be  comforted.  Blessed  are  the  meek: 
for  they  shall  inherit  the  earth.  Blessed  are  they 
which  do  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness : 
for  they  shall  be  filled.  Blessed  are  the  merciful: 
for  they  shall  obtain  mercy.  Blessed  are  the  pure 
in  heart:  for  they  shall  see  Cod.  Blessed  are  the 
peace-makers  :  for  they  shall  be  called  the  children 
of  God.      BleL.ed  are  they  which   are  persecuted 


190  DISCOURSES. 

for  righteousness'  sake  :  for  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of 
heaven." 

To  many  in  that  audience  each  beatitude  was  a 
paradox.  '  Happy  is  that  rich  man  who  holds  his  head 
so  high,'  would  be  the  thought  of  many;  but  Jesus 
says,  f  Happy  is  that  self-conscious  man  who  knows 
himself  a  spiritual  pauper.  He  will  welcome  the 
true  riches,  and  on  his  lowly  down-drooped  head,  as 
God's  Prophet,  I  pour  the  consecrating  oil,  and  anoint 
him  as  a  king.'  And  others  think,  '  Happy  are 
those  joyous  spirits.  Happy  is  that  festive  party. 
Happy  are  those  merry-makers,  who  have  always 
summer  in  their  blood  and  sunshine  in  their  looks, 
and  who  are  able  to  forget  both  past  and  future.' 
But  Jesus  says,  *  Happy  are  the  serious.  Happy 
those  whose  conscience  is  tender,  and  who  have  found 
in  sin  a  source  of  sincere  and  profound  affliction. 
Soon  will  the  last  tear  be  wiped  from  their  faces.' 
Many  envy  the  hero.  Fain  would  you  set  your  foot 
on  the  neck  of  the  Roman,  and  once  more  claim  this 
goodly  land  as  your  own.  '  But,'  says  Jesus,  '  the 
meek  man  is  the  hero.  His  foot  is  on  the  neck  of 
vindictiveness,  envy,  and  those  terrible  passions  which 
are  tyrants  worse  than  the  Romans.  As  my  disciple, 
become  your  own  master,  and  at  once  your  empire  is 
larger  than  Caesar's.  Be  meek,  be  patient,  be  con- 
tented, be  a  child  of  God,  and  God's  world  is  your 
estate,  the  earth  is  your  inheritance.'     Not  that  you 


Messiah's  manifesto.  191 

are  to  have  no  aspirations,  no  ambition ;  but  "  covet 
earnestly  the  best  gifts."     Hunger  after  righteousness. 

But  it  is  not  easy  to  paint  the  rainbow:  it  is  a 
vain  attempt  to  analyse  the  breath  of  June.  Of 
these  benedictions,  as  of  the  discourse  which  follows, 
so  deep  is  the  meaning,  and  so  Divine  the  charm,  that 
it  is  only  the  Holy  Spirit,  taking  the  things  of  Jesus, 
who  can  convey  them  fully  into  a  mortal  mind.  No 
wonder  that  their  perusal  has  been  the  means  of  pre- 
possessing for  the  gospel  numbers  of  both  Jews  and 
heathen;  and  no  wonder  that  the  fairest  and  best 
informed  of  modern  philosophers  has  said,  u  Of  their 
transcendent  excellence,  I  can  find  no  words  to  ex- 
press my  admiration  and  reverence.  At  the  close, 
the  Divine  speaker  rises  to  the  summit  of  moral 
sublimity.  l  Blessed  are  they  who  are  persecuted 
for  righteousness'  sake.'  For  a  moment,  O  Teacher 
blessed,  I  taste  the  unspeakable  delight  of  feeling 
myself  to  be  better.  I  feel,  as  in  the  days  of  my 
youth,  that  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness, 
which  long  habits  of  infirmity  and  the  low  concerns 
of  the  world  have  contributed  to  extinguish."  * 

They  are  the  preamble  to  a  discourse,  in  many 

•ts  the  most  remarkable  which  even  revelation 

has  preserved.     That  discourse  is  the  manifesto  of 

Messiah.     It  is  a  proclamation  of  the  sort  of  empire 

which  He  had  come  to  set  up  in  this  evil  world.     It 

•  Life  of  Sir  James  Mackinto»b,  vol.  ii.  p.  12& 


192  DISCOURSES. 

is  a  description  of  that  kingdom  of  God  which  consists 
in  "  righteousness,  and  peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy- 
Ghost,"  and  which  Jesus  sought  to  establish  in  the 
souls  of  men.  It  is  not  the  gospel ;  but  it  is  a  survey 
of  that  territory  to  which  the  gospel  is  the  gate.  It 
is  not  "  Believe  and  live;"  but  it  is  a  description  of 
that  existence  which  believers  ought  to  live.  And  to 
a  thoughtful  man,  who  is  beginning  to  tire  of  view- 
ing vanity,  who  is  sickened  at  the  world's  heartless- 
ness,  or  who  is  revolting  from  the  husks  which  the 
swine  do  eat,  we  can  imagine  nothing  more  opportune 
or  more  arousing  than  the  blessedness  of  a  true  piety 
as  here  depicted;  nothing  more  fitted  to  make  him 
ask,  How  shall  I  ascend  this  hill  of  God?  How 
may  I  get  up  to  the  pure  air  and  bright  prospects  of 
this  Mount  of  Blessing?  How  may  I  acquire  that 
character  which  Heavenly  Wisdom  has  here  signa- 
lised by  such  great  and  precious  benedictions  ? 

As  has  been  already  stated,  this  discourse  was 
delivered  early  in  the  Saviour's  ministry.  It  was 
uttered  just  when  it  was  desirable  to  give  both  His 
first  followers  and  the  Jews  in  general  an  accurate  idea 
of  His  object  and  mission ;  so  that  the  former  might 
know  what  their  Master  expected  from  them,  and 
that  the  latter  might  know  what  they  should  expect 
from  Messiah.  And  this  twofold  purpose  was  admir- 
ably answered  by  the  mode  in  which  the  address  was 
adapted  to  the  audience.     That  audience  consisted  of 


193 

nn  inner  and  an  outer  circle.  Close  around  their  Master 
were  collected  the  disciples ;  beyond  them,  but  still 
within  hearing,  was  a  promiscuous  congregation.  It 
was  to  the  disciples  that  Jesus  directed  His  speech ; 
but  it  was  to  disciples  in  the  audience  of  the  multi- 
tude. And,  therefore,  whilst  the  whole  of  the  sermon 
M  primarily  spoken  to  His  personal  friends,  nearly 
the  whole  of  it  bears  obliquely  on  the  bystanders. 
Every  beatitude  is  not  only  a  congratulation  to  the 
Christian,  but  a  warning,  a  sort  of  sorrowful  and 
reluctant  woe,  to  the  self-excluded  worldling.  Every 
exhortation  to  disciples,  "  Be  not  as  the  hypocrites," 
was  not  only  a  direction  how  to  pray,  and  fast,  and 
give  alms  aright;  but  it  was  fitted  to  startle  those 
who  felt  in  their  conscience  that  in  describing  the 
hypocrite  the  Speaker  was  describing  themselves. 
And  then  at  the  close,  when  He  proceeded  to  point 
out  the  wide  gate  and  the  narrow,  and  described  the 
foolish  builder  and  the  wise  one,  we  can  imagine 
Him  raising  His  eyes  towards  the  remoter  rows  of 
listeners,  and  leaving  on  their  especial  ear  the  solemn 
and  emphatic  conclusion. 

Assuming  that  it  was  the  twofold  object  of  this 
discourse  to  teach  the  disciples  what  their  Master 
expected  in  them,  and  to  teach  the  Jews  what  they 
ought  to  expect  from  Messiah,  it  is  most  instruc- 
tive to  observe  the  Divine  skill  with  which  both  enda 
are  accomplished,  or  rather  witli  which   the  one  is 


194  DISCOUKSES. 

accomplished  by  means  cf  the  other.  After  His 
benign  and  beautiful  introduction ,  the  Speaker  enun- 
ciates what  may  be  deemed  the  text  or  main  topic, 
— H  Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth  :  ye  are  the  light  of 
the  world : "  and  then  describing  the  sort  of  ligut 
which  Christians  should  shed  and  the  sort  of  influence 
which  Christians  should  exert,  lie  sketches  both 
negatively  and  positively  the  great  features  of  the 
New  Testament  kingdom.  It  was  no  part  of  His 
plan  to  supersede  the  Moral  Law,  or  to  proclaim  a 
saturnalia,  during  which  every  one  should  do  that 
which  was  good  in  his  own  eyes.  He  had  come  not 
to  cancel  the  Law  and  the  Prophets,  but  to  fulfil  the 
precepts  of  the  one,  even  as  He  fulfilled  the  predic- 
tions of  the  other.  Nay,  so  far  was  He  from  lowering 
the  Divine  requirements  or  loosening  moral  obligation, 
that  He  goes  on  to  instance  two  great  standards  of 
ethics  which  in  His  kingdom  would  be  utterly  worth- 
less,— the  one,  the  teaching  of  the  Scribes  ;  the  other, 
the  practice  of  the  Pharisees.  To  His  immediate 
hearers  nothing  could  be  more  startling.  u  If  only 
two  men  shall  be  saved,"  was  their  proverb,  "  the  one 
must  be  a  Scribe,  and  the  other  a  Pharisee."  But  to 
constitute  a  worthy  member  of  Messiah's  kingdom, 
Jesus  shews  that  their  obedience  must  be  more  broad 
than  the  one,  and  their  motive  more  pure  than  the 
other.  To  restrict  the  sixth  command  to  actual 
murder,   and   allow   all   malice  in  the  heart,  is  no 


MESSIAH'S  MANIFESTO.  195 

morality  ;  and  to  give  money  to  the  poor  and  say 
prayers  to  God,  for  the  sake  of  man's  applause,  is  no 
religion.  Then,  after  contrasting  the  spontaneous 
and  heart-sprung  ethics  of  the  Christian  with  the 
stinted  and  external  compliance  of  the  rubricist  and 
rule-monger,  as  well  as  with  the  ostentatious  exploits 
of  the  formalist,  He  reverts  to  the  main  topic  again, 
and  shews  that  it  is  by  laying  up  treasure  in  heaven 
— by  maintaining  a  single  eye  to  God's  glory — by 
casting  off  ail  carking  anxiety,  and  trusting  to  Him 
who  feeds  the  raven  and  clothes  the  lily — by  culti- 
vating strictness  of  judgment  each  towards  himself, 
and  charity  towards  others — by  making  known  all 
their  desires  to  God,  as  to  a  Father  wise  and  loving — 
and  by  doing  to  others  as  they  would  that  men  should 
do  to  them — that  they  are  to  evince  themselves 
Christ's  disciples,  and  pour  a  saving  light  upon  the 
world,  a  sanctifying  influence  on  society. 

Such  is  a  brief  outline  of  this  wonderful  discourse. 
Regarded  merely  as  an  effusion  of  didactic  eloquence, 
it  is  unsurpassed.  No  passage  inspired  or  uninspired 
can  equal  for  brevity  and  fulness  the  affectionate 
breathings  of  its  exhaustless  prayer ;  and  it  would 
be  better  never  to  have  been  born  than  to  be  able 
to  read  its  opening  beatitudes  without  impulse  or 
emotion.  Where  shall  we  find  words  so  plain  and 
yet  so  touching  as  these,  "  Behold  the  fowls  of  the 
air :  for  they  sow  not,  neither  do  they  reap,  nor  gather 


196  DISCOURSES. 

into  barns ;  yet  your  heavenly  Father  feedeth  them? 
Are  ye  not  much  better  than  they  ?  Which  of  you 
by  taking  thought  can  add  one  cubit  unto  his  stature? 
And  why  take  ye  thought  for  raiment  ?  Consider  the 
lilies  of  the  field,  how  they  grow;  they  toil  not, 
neither  do  they  spin :  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  That 
even  Solomon  in  all  his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like 
one  of  these.  Wherefore,  if  God  so  clothe  the  grass 
of  the  field,  which  to-day  is,  and  to-morrow  is  cast 
into  the  oven,  shall  he  not  much  more  clothe  you,  O 
ye  of  little  faith?"  And  when  did  a  sermon  ever 
end  with  a  peroration  so  natural  yet  so  noble, — an 
image  so  obvious  yet  so  stately  and  impressive? 
"  Therefore  whosoever  heareth  these  sayings  of  mine, 
and  doeth  them,  I  will  liken  him  unto  a  wise  man, 
which  built  his  house  upon  a  rock  :  and  the  rain 
descended,  and  the  floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew, 
and  beat  upon  that  house ;  and  it  fell  not :  for  it  was 
founded  upon  a  rock.  And  every  one  that  heareth 
these  sayings  of  mine,  and  doeth  them  not,  shall  be 
likened  unto  a  foolish  man,  which  built  his  house 
upon  the  sand :  and  the  rain  descended,  and  the 
floods  came,  and  the  winds  blew,  and  beat  upon  that 
house  ;   and  it  fell :    and  great  was  the  fall  of  it." 

The  Speaker  came  with  no  pompous  equipage. 
He  did  not  alight  from  a  splendid  chariot,  n  r  was 
He  attended  to  His  place  by  the  elite  of  Palestine  or 
any  train  of  learned  or  brilliant  supporters.     Neither 


Messiah's  manifesto.  197 

coronet  nor  mitre  glittered  on  His  brow,  no  halo  shone 
from  His  head.  The  sky  did  not  mutter,  the  mountain 
did  not  quake ;  no  trumpet  was  sounded ;  no  note 
of  preparation  was  heard.  But  the  great  Teacher  sat 
down;  and  as  the  audience  clustered  round — like 
pearls  from  a  horn  of  plenty — like  the  musical  pulses 
of  morning  on  the  great  harp  of  Memnon — blessing 
followed  blessing,  till  He  swept  the  whole  diapason 
of  goodness.  Then,  after  this  exquisite  prelude,  He 
passed  on  to  unfold  His  heavenly  ethics,  in  terms  so 
simple  that  the  boor  of  Naphthali  wondered  at  his 
own  intelligence,  and  yet  so  saintly,  so  celestial,  that 
the  dullest  ear  was  awed,  and  the  vilest  for  a  moment 
felt  the  charm  of  virtue.  And  what  made  the  won- 
der all  the  greater,  was  the  ancient  and  familiar 
source  from  which  those  lessons  so  new  and  beautiful 
were  taken.  The  discourse  was  avowedly  based  on 
an  older  law,  and  was  designed  to  expound  precepts 
given  long  ago,  and  yet  the  world  contains  no  con- 
tribution to  ethics  so  novel  and  unique.  Like  so 
many  dingy  nodules  which  from  time  immemorial 
have  lain  about  on  the  village  green,  disregarded  by 
the  ignorant  or  heedless  inhabitants,  till  at  last  a 
lapidary  comes  and  splits  them  open,  and  in  the 
heart  of  each  reveals  a  nest  of  radiant  gems, — the 
ten  commandments  had  been  preserved  among  the 
Hebrews  as  something  precious,  but  rather  as 
Indiums  or  charms  than  as  wealth  available  for 


198  DISCOURSES. 

their  several  homes,  till,  one  by  one,  Jesus  took  them, 
and  with  His  "  I  say  unto  you "  laid  open  each 
several  precept,  and  shewed  how  rich  it  was  in 
hidden  jewels,  and  how,  turned  to  right  account,  it 
might  have  introduced  into  their  own  abodes  much 
of  the  wealth  of  heaven.  Like  the  seeds  and  bulbs 
which  travellers  sometimes  carry  home,  in  the  wil- 
derness of  Sinai  the  Israelites  had  gathered  up  and 
conveyed  to  their  own  land  many  right  statutes  and 
good  judgments;  but,  like  the  dry  germs  in  the 
traveller's  cupboard,  the  law  slumbered  a  dead  letter 
in  the  ark  of  the  synagogue,  till — "  lo !  I  come  " — 
Jesus  came  and  hid  it  in  His  heart.  Watered  by 
the  Holy  Spirit,  given  without  measure  to  the  second 
Adam,  these  seeds  of  goodness  quickened  in  this 
congenial  soil,  and  after  thirty  years  of  fostering  in 
Nazareth,  were  in  full  blossom  planted  out  on  the 
Mount  of  Beatitudes ;  and  when  the  murmur  of  ad- 
miration rose,  "  Whence  hath  this  man  this  doctrine?" 
He  told  them  that  He  had  found  it  in  the  decalogue. 
The  germs  of  all  these  graces  were  the  dry  seeds  which 
they  themselves  had  fetched  home  from  the  barren 
crags  of  Horeb.  He  had  hid  them  in  His  heart,  and  now 
preached  their  righteousness  in  the  great  congregation. 
It  was  a  marvellous  sermon;  and  as  in  the  induc- 
tion of  the  Speaker's  sanctity  the  listeners  felt  for 
the  instant  weaned  from  sin — as  in  the  example  of 
the  Speaker  Himself  they  saw  how  august  and  lovely 


Messiah's  manifesto.  199 

true  devotion  is  —  as  under  the  momentary  spell 
they  could  fancy  themselves  ennobled  and  uplifted, 
and  already  ushered  on  that  better  life  in  whose 
majestic  panorama  they  were  moving  —  they  were 
loth  to  end  the  delicious  trance,  and  grieved  when  the 
glorious  lesson  ended.  Like  bees  hovering  round 
the  honeycomb,  "when  he  came  down  from  the 
mountain  great  multitudes  followed  him  " — and  just 
as  the  shepherds  felt  when  the  heavens  closed  and  the 
angels  fell  silent,  when  Jesus  ended,  the  people  were 
astonished.  The  doctrine  and  the  tone  were  new. 
It  was  not  the  hearsay  of  the  elders,  nor  the  quibble 
of  the  scribes — it  was  the  voice  of  the  oracle,  it  was 
the  deliverance  of  a  teacher  come  from  God.  No 
wonder  that  they  marvelled;  for  on  that  hill-side 
they  had  heard  a  sermon  the  like  of  which  their 
fathers  even  did  not  hear  at  Sinai.  They  had  heard 
a  sermon  which  was  to  be  the  text  of  a  new  dispen- 
sation, and  whose  fulness  of  meaning  no  sage  of  this 
world,  no  seraph  of  the  other,  shall  ever  be  able  to 
exhaust.  They  had  heard  a  lecture  on  ethics,  the 
symmetry  and  elevation  of  which  were  only  surpassed 
by  the  Speaker's  living  example.  They  had  heard  a 
lesson  as  to  God's  fatherliness  and  fond  interest  in 
His  children's  affairs,  such  as  no  one  could  speak 
with  authority  save  the  only-begotten  Son,  who  is  in 
the  bosom  of  the  Father,  and  who  on  this  occasion 
declared  Him. 


Of  the  recorded  discourses  of  our  Lord,  the  two 
longest  are  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  and  His  Address 
to  the  Disciples  in  the  guest-chamber  on  that  night 
when  He  was  betrayed  into  the  hands  of  sinners. 

Between  these  discourses  two  years  and  a  half  had 
intervened* — years  filled  up  as  never  was  any  similar 
term  of  human  history.  During  that  interval  the 
Lord  Jesus  had  been  the  source  of  countless  benefits 
to  the  land  of  His  sojourn.  Betwixt  the  lost  senses 
which  He  had  restored  to  many,  and  the  many  whom 
He  had  cured  of  direful  diseases ;  betwixt  the  demons 
whom  He  had-  expelled,  and  the  dead  whom  He  had 
raised  to  life,  there  was  not  a  single  mourner  or 
sufferer  on  whose  behalf  the  interposition  of  the  Man 
of  Mercies  had  been  sought  by  Himself  or  His  friends, 
who  had  not  reason  to  remember  Him  with  affec- 
tionate gratitude.  But  there  were  others  wTho  were 
His  debtors  still  more  deeply.     There  were  many 

*  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  Mr  Greswell  assigns  to  September, 
A.D.  27;  the  Farewell  Discourse,  to  April  4,  A. I).  30. 


a  saviour's  farewell.  201 

whose  spiritual  diseases  He  had  healed,  many  whom 
He  had  raised  from  the  grave  of  sensuality,  and  given 
them  the  life  of  God  in  their  souls.  And  if  there  be 
greater  wonders,  there  is  no  mercy  greater  than  this. 
To  a  soul  sunk  in  corruption — apathetic  as  a  clod, 
ignorant  of  God,  destitute  of  all  pure  and  holy  aspira- 
tions, a  mere  assemblage  of  divers  lusts  and  passions 
— to  such  a  soul  to  impart  acute  moral  sensitiveness, 
an  adoring  loyalty  to  the  Most  High,  an  avidity  for 
truth  and  goodness,  and  thus  to  he  it  for  a  glorious 
immortality,  is  a  greater  boon  than  a  resurrection  to 
natural  life  a  thousand  times  repeated.  But  that 
boon  the  Saviour  was  conferring  on  some  one  almost 
every  day;  and,  rendering  its  cheating  publicans 
honest  and  humane,  its  hollow  Pharisees  genuine 
and  devout,  its  flagitious  transgressors  pure  in  heart 
and  blameless  in  all  holy  conversation,  He  was  leaving 
in  that  Holy  Land  numbers  who,  when  He  came  to 
it,  were  so  foul  as  to  be  only  fit  for  destruction,  but 
who,  through  His  own  benignant  treatment  and  the 
Holy  Spirit's  transforming,  have  long  since  gone  to 
be  the  companions  of  angels.  And,  over  and  above, 
not  a  day  elapsed  throughout  these  thirty  months 
when  He  was  not  living  that  life,  uttering  those 
words,  radiating  that  influence,  and  achieving  that 
work,  of  which  we  reap  the  priceless  results  to-day — 
of  which  the  Divine  perfections  then  revealed  and 
vindicated  shall  reap  the  honour  through  eternity. 


202  DISCOURSES. 

And  now  it  was  all  but  ended.  To-night  He 
would  say,  "  Farewell "  to  His  friends ;  to-morrow, 
to  His  work  He  would  say,  "  It  is  finished." 

That  mountain  of  Galilee  and  this  guest-chamber 
in  Jerusalem  mark  two  important  eras  in  the  history 
of  discipleship.  Until  Jesus  opened  His  month  and 
said,  "  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit:  for  theirs  is 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,"  it  is  likely  the  apostles 
hoped  that  the  kingdom  would  consist  in  wealth  and 
victory,  in  crowns  and  posts  of  honour:  but  the 
announcement  of  that  hour  went  far  to  dissipate 
the  delusion ;  for  it  was  then  plainly  and  authorita- 
tively proclaimed,  that  God's  empire  is  spiritual ;  that 
the  king  among  men  is  the  man  who  by  the  com- 
pletest  subjection  to  God  has  obtained  the  greatest 
mastery  over  himself;  and  that  his  is  the  blessed  life, 
not  who  has  the  most  gold  in  his  coffers,  but  the 
most  good  feelings  in  his  heart — not  who  has  the 
greatest  number  of  retainers  to  whom  he  says,  "  Do 
this,  and  go  thither,"  but  the  greatest  number  of 
neighbours  and  acquaintances  whom  he  blesses  by 
his  gracious  deeds  and  benevolent  prayers — not  who 
has  a  palace  for  his  abode,  but  who,  having  God  for 
his  Father,  enjoys  constant  access  to  the  King  of 
kings.  Never  did  warrior  or  statesman  more  dis- 
tinctly explain  his  object  than  the  Captain  of  Sal- 
vation then  unfolded  His  mission.  And,  although  the 
means  by  which  it  was  to  be  attained  were  not  yet 


203 

ro  fully  made  known,  there  need  have  been  no  doubt 
from  that  day  forward  as  to  the  Saviour's  aim.  A 
victory  for  righteousness — the  expulsion  from  this 
world  of  all  that  is  false,  cruel,  diabolic — the  en- 
thronement of  the  living  God  in  the  heart  of  every 
living  man — the  founding  of  a  kingdom  of  truth, 
peace,  and  devotion,  which  should  at  last  be  univer- 
sal— the  empire  of  God  upon  earth — a  mark  no  less 
sublime  than  this  was  pointed  at  on  the  Mount  of 
Beatitudes  when  the  Heavenly  King  unfurled  His 
standard  and  invited  all  comers  to  gather  round  it. 

At  first  scarce  able  to  realise  this,  in  the  delightful 
society  of  their  Master  the  disciples  were  beginning 
to  recover  from  the  dislocation  of  old  ideas  and  the 
unhingement  of  old  hopes,  when  they  were  staggered 
by  a  new  disclosure.  Hard  as  it  was  to  give  up  "the 
kingdom  for  Israel "  and  their  own  promotion,  so 
blessed  is  it  to  be  continually  doing  good,  and  so 
inspiring  was  the  companionship  of  Jesus,  that  we 
may  easily  concede  that  a  little  longer  and  they 
would  have  been  joyfully  following  their  Leader  in 
His  world-bettering,  sin- vanquishing  campaign.  But 
here  was  a  new  and  stunning  surprise.  Their  Leader 
was  about  to  leave  them  :  their  Master  was  about  to 
die !  And  if  to  earthly  aspirations  there  were  a  check 
and  a  bitter  disappointment  on  the  Mount  of  Beati- 
tudes, to  their  holiest  affections  and  dearest  hopes 
there  was  a  sickening  shock  in  the  consummation 


204  DISCOURSES. 

which  they  could  now  conceal  from  themselves  no 
longer.  The  former  bend  in  their  journey  up  the 
hill  of  discipleship  had  brought  them  out  on  a  pro- 
spect sufficiently  blank  and  dispiriting ;  and  as  they 
saw  the  crowns  and  sceptres  vanish  over  the  verge  and 
disappear,  and  turning  their  eyes,  as  He  had  lately 
turned  His  own,  from  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  and 
all  their  glory,  as  their  Master  bade  them  mount 
higher,  they  felt  a  pang,  and  for  long  kept  up  an 
inward  protest.  But  now,  this  second  bend — this 
higher  landing-place — what  is  this  which  it  dis- 
closes ?  Oh,  horror  of  all  horrors  !  A  gallows  tree  ! 
a  death  of  infamy !  a  cross,  and  their  Master  on  it ! 
large  as  life,  and  close  at  hand,  their  Master's  cross, 
and  in  the  misty  background  crosses  for  themselves ! 
Truly  it  was  with  bitter  herbs  that  on  the  eve  of 
such  a  blood-stained  morrow  they  ate  their  passover ; 
and  although  they  knew  that  it  was  of  no  use  now  to 
say,  "Master,  spare  Thyself,"  no  wonder  that,  as 
with  cold  and  tremulous  fingers,  they  passed  round 
the  broken  bread  and  raised  to  their  pallid  lips  the 
prophetic  cup,  their  Master  could  interpret  the  silence 
and  the  anxious  looks  of  His  already  bereaved  and 
orphan  family. 

He  saw,  and  He  sympathised,  and,  as  was  His  wont, 
postponing  His  own  more  urgent  case,  He  proceeded 
to  comfort  them. 

But  that  discourse,  who  can  expound  ?    This  adieu, 


205 

as  Divine  as  it  is  tender — this  u  farewell  gleam  of 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  tearfully  smiling  ere  He 
plunged  into  the  dark  thunder-clouds  waiting  to 
receive  Him"* — these  parting  counsels  of  a  Saviour 
beneath  the  cross — how  is  it  possible  to  translate  into 
our  weak  words,  or  transfer  to  our  coarse  canvas? 
From  the  opening  utterance,  u  Let  not  your  heart  be 
troubled ;  believe  in  God,  believe  also  in  me,"  down  to 
that  unprecedented  prayer  in  which  the  Great  High 
Priest  allowed  disciples  for  once  to  overhear  such 
int  rcession  as  He  still  offers  within  the  veil,  the  whole 
is  fitter  to  be  pondered  in  the  still  seclusion  of  a  com- 
munion eve,  or  read  over  in  the  house  of  mourning, 
or  whispered  in  the  ear  of  the  pilgrim  on  the  banks 
of  Jordan,  than  made  the  subject  of  our  hard  analytic 
handling. 

The  essence  of  the  gospel  is  God's  love.  The  in- 
carnation was  God's  love  coming  forth  from  the 
viewless,  and  tabernacling  palpably  in  the  midst  of 
men.  The  atonement  was  God's  love  providing  a 
satisfaction  to  God's  justice,  and  making  it  as  con- 
sistent with  His  rectitude  as  it  is  delightful  to  His 
benevolence  to  pardon  the  sin  and  restore  and  renew 
the  sinner.  The  New  Testament  dispensation  is 
God's  love,  so  to  speak,  organised  and  acting  through 
various  institutions  and  ordinances — gently  visiting 
us  in  Sabbaths  with  their  hallowed  calm,  their  tran- 

*  Brown  Patterson. 


206  DISCOURSES. 

quillising  repose,  their  touching  remembrances — more 
emphatically  appealing  in  sacraments,  with  their 
solemn  messages  and  Divine  sanctions  and  pledges 
— articulate  in  the  wiitten  Word  and  its  great  and 
precious  promises — diffused  around  us  in  Christian 
society  and  its  softening  influences — penetrating  our 
very  souls  in  the  solicitations  of  the  blessed  Spirit, 
who,  as  God's  great  heart  of  love,  keeps  moving, 
throbbing,  yearning  in  every  faithful  saying  to  which 
we  listen,  and  in  every  earnest  prayer  to  which  the 
feeblest  saint  gives  utterance  in  the  name  of  Jesus,  and 
in  communion  with  God.  And  this  farewell  address 
is,  so  to  speak,  a  final  effort  of  Incarnate  Love  to  drown 
the  remaining  coldness  and  felt  sinfulness  and  faint- 
heartedness of  disciples  in  that  confidence  Godwards 
which,  of  all  things,  is  the  most  sanctifying  and  sin- 
subduing,  the  most  fortifying  against  hardships,  the 
most  animating  to  deeds  of  endurance  and  valour. 

From  His  baptism  at  Jordan  to  this  verge  of  Geth- 
semane,  Jesus  had  lived  in  the  uninterrupted  smile  of 
His  Father.  From  the  moment  that  heaven  opened, 
and  there  came  from  the  excellent  glory  a  voice, 
"  This  is  my  beloved  Son,"  down  to  this  moment, 
when  His  soul  was  soon  to  be  sorrowful,  even  unto 
death — He  had  never  once  forgotten  that  God  was  His 
Father,  and  that  He  was  the  Father's  dear  Son  ;  but 
His  whole  career  was  overcanopied  and  brightened 
by  this  soul-gladdening  assurance.     Travelling  in  the 


a  saviour's  farewell.  207 

greatness  of  His  strength,  or  rather,  we  may  say,  in 
the  loftiness  of  His  stature,  the  sod  was  often  cold  and 
wintry  to  His  feet,  He  trod  on  many  a  thorn,  and 
again  and  again  felt  the  envenomed  serpent  at  His 
heel.  But  above  time's  clouds  and  earth's  harsh 
weather  the  heavens  were  open,  and  God  was  love ; 
and  although  His  steps  were  often  through  rugged 
paths  and  painful,  it  was  in  a  pavilion  of  constant 
peace  and  brightness  overhead  that  He  ever  looked 
forth  and  moved  onward.  And  now  He  said  to  dis- 
ciples, "  Peace  I  leave  with  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto 
you."  "  If  a  man  love  me,  he  will  keep  my  words : 
and  my  Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  unto 
him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him."  l  Come  up 
into  my  own  pavilion.  Submit  to  have  your  weak 
souls  carried  in  a  Saviour's  strong  arms.  In  the 
world  ye  shall  have  tribulation.  That  world  hates 
me — it  will  hate  you.  It  has  hurt  me  all  it  could — 
it  will  hurt  you  more.  But  where  I  am,  all  is  serenity, 
sunshine,  peace.  Keep  near  me,  believe  what  I  say, 
and  the  love  with  which  the  Father  loves  Me  will 
include  and  environ  you ;  and  as  I  am  about  to  take 
my  last  step  out  of  the  world,  so  be  of  good  cheer, 
your  tribulation  will  soon  be  ended  also :  your  last 
step  erelong  will  be  taken,  your  Father's  house  will 
be  gained.' 

Delightful  as  it  would  be  to  dwell  on  that  great 
legacy  of  peace,  and  that  great  promise  of  the  Com- 


DISCOURSES. 

forter  which  this  memorable  sermon  included,  we  must 
pass  away  from  it,  leaving  most  of  its  topics  untouched. 
But  as  "  life  and  immortality"  are  so  special  a  dis- 
tinction of  the  gospel  revelation,  we  may  be  permitted 
to  meditate  a  little  on  that  suggestive  name  which 
the  Saviour  here  gives  to  the  future  residence  of  His 
people — "  My  Father's  House." 


*  In  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions  :  I  go  to  prepare  a  place 
for  you." 

The  present  state  is  a  state  of  discipline,  and  part  of 
that  discipline  consists  in  the  limits  of  our  knowledge. 
Some  knowledge  we  have  lost,  and  some  we  never 
had  the  means  of  gaining.  And  among  other  sub- 
jects of  inquiry  none  can  be  more  interesting  than 
the  future  abode  of  our  immortal  selves,  and  the  mode 
in  which  we  are  to  reach  it.  For  instance,  many 
would  have  felt  it  a  satisfaction  had  the  Saviour  told 
us  the  precise  region  of  the  universe  which  is  to  be 
the  residence  of  His  ransomed,  so  that,  looking  out 
on  the  starry  firmament,  we  might  have  been  able  to 
fix  on  the  moon  or  some  planet,  and  say,  u  Yonder  it 
is.  Yonder  is  the  world  to  which  the  spirits  of  my 
fathers  have  already  gone,  and  to  which  erelong  I  my- 
self am  going."      And  many  would  have  liked  to 


209 

know  more  precisely  the  manner  in  which  the  transit 
is  effected.  Is  it  an  angel  guard  which  convoys  the 
spirit  home?  Or  does  the  Lord  Jesus  receive  it 
direct?  And  how  does  that  disembodied  spirit  hold 
intercourse  with  its  glorified  companions  ?  and,  in  the 
absence  of  all  material  organisation,  how  does  it  per- 
form the  acts  ascribed  to  it  in  the  glimpses  of  the 
better  country  which  the  Bible  gives?  And  on  all 
these  points  it  would  have  been  a  great  enjoyment  to 
possess  clear  and  assuring  information.  But  on  these 
points  the  only  book  which  could  have  solved  our 
queries  is  silent.  Thomas  did  say  to  Jesus,  ('  How 
can  we  know  the  way?"  and  Jesus  answered,  "I 
am  the  Way."  Instead  of  telling  how  the  transit  is 
effected  from  the  clay  tabernacle  to  the  house  eternal, 
the  Saviour  virtually  said,  i  Leave  it  to  me.  I  shall 
see  to  it,  that  where  I  myself  am,  there  my  disciples 
shall  also  be.  See  you  to  it  that  your  souls  are  safe 
in  my  keeping  now,  and  when  the  time  arrives  I 
shall  see  to  it  that  they  are  safely  brought  home  to 
my  pre3ence.,  And  in  the  same  way  in  regard  to 
the  place.  Christ  could  have  told.  He  had  come 
from  it,  and  was  soon  going  back.  He  knew  all 
regarding  it,  and  could  have  superseded  a  world  of 
speculation  by  simply  naming  it.  l  Is  it  a  planet  of 
our  system  ?  Is  it  the  sun's  own  orb  ?  Is  it  some  fixed 
star  ?  or  some  region  so  remote  that  no  twinkle  of  its 
glory  can  reach  these  outskirts  of  immensity  ?     Or  is 


210  DISCOURSES. 

it  here?  Is  it  within  our  world's  own  confines? 
Coincident  with  our  old  and  evil  earth — as  it  were, 
simultaneous  and  superimposed  upon  it,  like  the  at- 
mosphere of  vapour  which  fills  our  atmosphere  of  air, 
and  the  atmosphere  of  electricity  which  fills  them 
both,  impalpable  to  our  gross  senses — are  there  a  new 
heaven  and  a  new  earth  already  here  ?  On  the  site  of 
some  busy  Babel,  where  all  is  smoke  and  din  and 
vanity,  has  there  already  come  down  the  New  Jeru- 
salem, bright  and  happy  as  a  bride  adorned  for  her  hus- 
band? And  in  the  very  scenes  where  we  plod  through 
leafless  forests,  and  gaze  on  torrents  brown  with  winter 
and  its  decomposing  vegetation,  do  happier  beings 
gather  fruit  from  the  tree  of  life,  and  wander  along 
the  banks  of  the  crystal  river  ?  Are  heaven  and  earth 
so  near  that,  although  ten  or  twenty  years  have  severed 
me  from  a  sainted  sire  or  a  believing  sister,  there  is  not 
a  league  of  space  between  us  ? — so  near  that,  to  bring 
the  soul  and  the  Saviour  together,  it  only  needs  the 
breaking  down  of  a  dark  partition,  and,  absent  from 
the  body,  I  am  present  with  the  Lord?'  On  all  these 
matters  the  Saviour  was  silent ;  but  just  as  all  curi- 
ous questionings  as  to  the  transit  were  dismissed  by 
His  own  sufficient  assurance,  "  I  am  the  Way,"  so  all 
surmisings  as  to  the  place  are  superseded  by  His 
telling  us  that  it  is  the  Father's  house,  the  Saviour's 
home. 

u  I  adore  the  fulness  of  Scripture,"  said  Luther ; 


THE  FATHER'S  HOUSE.  211 

and  the  devout  student  has  reason  to  add,  u  I  adore 
its  reserve."  Every  saying  is  significant ;  but  there 
is  also  significance  in  its  silence.  On  the  subjects 
now  hinted  it  could  have  been  copious :  it  has  chosen 
to  say  little.  And  that  silence,  what  does  it  say? 
Leave  secret  things  to  the  Lord,  but  attend  you  to 
those  that  arc  patent  and  practical.  Make  you  salva- 
tion sure,  and  that  salvation  will  make  you  sure  of 
heaven.  Be  you  a  child  of  God,  and  the  Father  will 
take  you  in  due  time  to  the  Father's  house. 
The  expression,  as  we  ponder  it,  suggests — 
1.  Home  Education.  We  are  apt  to  fancy  that 
on  the  glorified  spirit  knowledge  is  at  once  to  burst 
in  its  fullest  flood,  and  inundate  the  soul  with  im- 
mediate and  boundless  information.  But  this  is  not 
the  analogy  of  God's  procedure.  Doubtless,  from  the 
moment  of  entering  the  world  of  light,  the  soul  will 
be  raised  above  the  clouds  of  error — above  prejudice 
and  ignorant  prepossession  ;  but  it  will  be  the  work 
of  a  whole  eternity  to  go  forward  along  the  vistas  of 
ever-widening  inquiry,  and  come  forth  into  landing- 
places  of  ever-larger  and  ever-wealthier  revelation. 
And  just  as  betwixt  the  vastest  finite  understanding 
and  Omniscience  there  exists  the  interval  of  a  whole 
infinitude,  so  we  can  easily  perceive  how  to  the  soaring 
celestial  there  is  room  for  boundless  aspirings,  as  stage 
by  stage  and  platform  by  platform  lie  mounts,  and  still 
finds  that  it  is  but  the  lowest  step  to  the  all-survey- 


212  DISCOURSES. 

ing  throne — the  alpha  of  that  science  where  no  created 
mind  can  reach  the  omega.  Bnt  just  as  a  kind  father 
takes  care  that  under  his  eye  his  children  learn  what 
is  likely  to  do  them  most  good,  so  it  will  at  once  "be 
the  instinct  of  these  heavenly  alumni  and  the  care  of 
their  Father,  that  they  learn  the  most  excellent 
knowledge.  Much  of  the  knowledge,  for  whose  poor 
grains  we  tug  and  strain  with  ant-like  industry  in 
our  present  state,  is  of  little  intrinsic  value.  As  one 
confesses  who  had  amassed  an  enormous  library,  and 
gleaned  a  huge  amount  of  rare  and  curious  informa- 
tion :  "  After  all,  knowledge  is  not  the  first  thing 
needful.  Provided  we  can  get  contentedly  through 
the  world  and  to  heaven  at  last,  the  sum  of  know- 
ledge we  may  collect  on  the  way  is  more  infinitely 
insignificant  than  I  like  to  acknowledge  in  my  own 
heart."*  But  of  the  knowledge  which  we  acquire 
under  the  tuition  of  the  Comforter,  and  of  that  know- 
ledge where  God  Himself  is  the  subject,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  possess  too  much.  And  such  is  the  know- 
ledge of  the  glorified.  God  Himself  is  known.  Not 
comprehended  —  but  apprehended: — much  of  His 
procedure  understood,  none  of  His  perfections  mis- 
understood. The  plan  of  redemption  is  made  plain, 
and  the  grace  of  Immauuel  is  made  so  manifest,  that 
it  will  be  almost  a  regret  of  the  glorified  that  it  was  not 
sooner  realised — that  they  did  not  trust  His  tenderness 

•  Southey's  Life,  vi.  192. 


the  father's  house.  213 

more,  and  resort  to  His  atonement  more  habitually  and 
more  joyfully.  And  the  mystery  of  Providence  is 
made  plain :  and,  like  one  who  has  been  conducted 
through  a  tangled  forest  by  some  skilful  guide,  and 
who  is  often  tempted  to  strike  out  near  paths  or 
smooth  paths  for  himself,  but  who  at  last,  emerging 
from  the  thicket  and  looking  down  from  some  lofty 
eminence  on  the  leafy  wilderness,  concedes  his  con- 
ductor's skill ;  so,  escaped  from  the  thicket  of  this 
world's  toils  and  trials,  and  looking  down  from  the 
hills  of  immortality  on  the  way  by  which  the  Lord 
has  led  us — that  road  which  we  often  thought  so 
round-about,  and  often  felt  so  rugged — how  affecting 
and  surprising  to  see  that  it  was  the  only  right  way 
— the  only  way  that  would  have  brought  us  thither! 
i  That  tempting  avenue  past  which  I  was  so  roughly 
hurried,  had  I  entered  on  it  I  must  have  been  be- 
mired  in  worldly  lusts,  and  might  have  been  plunged 
into  perdition.  That  grassy  opening,  which  I  so 
preferred  to  the  path  through  pricking  thorns,  would 
have  led  me  to  the  lion's  den.  And  that  near-cut, 
as  I  deemed  it,  would  have  given  me  the  whole 
journey  to  retrace.  The  rough  way  turns  out  to  be 
the  only  right  way."  And  so,  extending  to  all  the 
events  of  mortal  life,  the  story  of  nations  as  well  as 
men,  there  will  be  no  end  to  the  wise  counsel  and 
wonderful  working  of  Jehovah,  as  recorded  by  the 
historians  of  the  skies.     And  then 


214  DISCOURSES. 

"  How  great  to  mingle  amities 
With  all  the  sons  of  reason,  wherever  born, 
Howe'er  endow'd  !  to  live  free  citizens 
Of  universal  nature ! 

To  call  heaven's  rich  unfathomable  mines 
Our  own  !  to  rise  in  science  as  in  bliss, 
Initiate  in  the  secrets  of  the  skies  ! 
To  read  creation — read  its  mighty  plan 
In  open  vision  of  the  Deity  ! 
To  see  all  cloud,  all  shadow,  blown  remote, 
And  know  no  mystery,  but  that  of  love  Divins  !* 

¥  Now  we  see  through  a  glass  darkly  ;  but  then  shall 
we  see  face  to  face :  now  we  know  in  part ;  then  shall 
we  know  even  as  we  are  known." 

2.  The  Father's  house  suggests  Holiness.  A  person 
may  be  constrained  to  live  in  a  bad  neighbourhood ; 
but  he  will  not  let  bad  neighbours  live  in  his  house. 
David  lived  in  a  time  of  great  depravity,  and  Pales- 
tine was  full  of  deceitful,  dishonest,  and  violent  men : 
but,  setting  up  house  for  himself,  the  monarch  said, 
"  I  will  suffer  no  wicked  thing  before  mine  eyes. 
He  that  worketh  deceit  shall  not  dwell  within  my 
house:  he  that  telleth  lies  shall  not  tarry  in  my 
sight.  Mine  eyes  shall  be  upon  the  faithful  of  the 
land,  that  they  may  dwell  with  me :  he  that  walketh 
in  a  perfect  way,  he  shall  serve  me."  And  so,  in 
filling  up  His  great  house  on  high,  our  heavenly 
Father  has  laid  down  that  rule,  Holiness  becometh 
my  house  for  ever,  and  without  holiness  no  man 
shall  see  the  Lord.  And  He  has  perfect  power  to 
enforce   that  ordinance.      Nothing   that   defileth  or 


the  father's  house.  215 

worketh  abomination  shall  ever  cross  His  palace 
gates ;  or,  in  Rutherford's  homely  words,  "  No 
unclean  dog  shall  ever  set  foot  in  the  fair  streets  of 
the  New  Jerusalem.''  And,  what  is  more  wonderful 
still,  if  ourselves  are  admitted,  even  when  we  go  in 
no  sin  shall  enter.  Washed  and  made  white  and 
purified,  redeeming  blood  and  the  renewing  Spirit 
will  secure  that  heaven  shall  be  holy  whosoever  he 
be  that  enters  there.  This  makes  it  so  good  to  be 
there.  This  should  make  us  so  thankful  when  we 
have  reason  to  hope  that  friends  of  our  own  are  there. 
Like  Jesus,  u  they  have  gone  into  the  holy  place." 
Sometimes,  when  you  send  a  child  away  from  home, 
you  have  fears  and  misgivings.  He  is  gone  to  be 
with  good  people ;  but  even  there  you  cannot  be  sure 
what  company  he  may  sometimes  encounter.  But 
gone  to  the  Father's  house,  you  are  sure  he  is  safe. 
There  there  is  nothing  to  hurt  or  destroy ;  and  there 
he  will  have  no  company  but  what  will  do  him  good. 
And,  looking  forward  to  the  place,  if  you  have  got 
that  new  nature  to  which  sin  is  the  sorest  burden 
and  sanctity  the  sweetest  luxury,  how  pleasant  the 
thought,  that  in  a  little  while  you  shall  be  done  with 
evil !  Yet  a  little  while,  and  I  shall  have  sinned  my 
last  sin.  Yet  a  little  while,  and  I  shall  have  prayed 
my  last  wandering  prayer,  and  kept  my  last  cold 
imunion.  Yet  a  little  while,  and  even  from  me 
the  Ever-Blessed  shall  receive  praise  without  mur- 


216  DISCOURSES. 

muring,  and  love  without  alloy.  Yet  a  little  while, 
and  temptation  eannot  touch  me,  and  even  if  Satan 
could  come  he  would  find  nothing  in  me.  Yet  a 
little  while,  and  I  shall  be  in  the  climes  of  purity,  in 
the  home  of  goodness — in  that  native  land  of  excel- 
lence to  which,  if  not  all  the  talent  and  all  the  learn- 
ing, at  least  all  the  piety  and  all  the  virtue,  of  the 
universe  are  tending, — as  every  particle  of  vital  air 
returns  to  the  atmosphere,  as  every  drop  of  rain  will 
again  be  found  in  the  ocean. 

3.  The  Father's  house  suggests  the  Father's  pre- 
sence. This  world  is  not  the  Father's  house ;  but  it 
is  the  school  in  which  He  has  some  of  His  children 
training  for  glory.  A  severe  school  to  many  of 
them,  where  they  have  often  bread  of  affliction  and 
tears  in  great  measure — a  severe  school,  where  some 
of  the  tutors  appointed  by  the  great  Teacher  are 
stern  masters,  and  where  the  lessons  are  hard  to  learn. 
And  what  makes  the  Gymnasium  of  Meshech  so 
dreary  is,  not  only  the  bad  companions,  but  the  rare- 
ness of  the  Father's  visits.  God  is  a  stranger  in  this 
world,  and  it  is  not  often  that  even  His  own  children 
are  cheered  by  His  conscious  presence. 

"  But  there  they  see  His  face, 
And  never,  never  sin  ; 
And  from  the  rivers  of  His  grace 
Drink  endless  pleasures  in." 

Here  believers  often  complain  that  they  cannot  get 


the  father's  house.  217 

access  to  their  God.  They  try  to  pray,  but  feel  as 
if  He  did  not  regard.  They  cry  in  the  night  season, 
but  He  heareth  not.  But  there  there  is  no  withdraw- 
ment  of  His  presence,  no  hiding  of  His  face,  no 
frown,  no  forsaking :  but  all  is  perennial  peace — for 
they  are  made  exceeding  glad  with  the  light  of  His 
countenance  for  evermore. 

4.  The  Father's  house  suggests  the  Family  ; — not 
only  the  filial  but  the  fraternal  affection — not  only 
love  to  God  but  love  to  one  another.  In  that  better 
country  God  will  be  better  loved,  because  better 
known ;  and  our  believing  brethren  will  be  better 
loved,  because  they  are  become  more  lovely  and  we 
ourselves  more  loving.  There  are  many  good  men 
whom  here  on  earth  it  is  arduous  to  love.  They  are 
whimsical ;  they  are  taciturn ;  they  are  opinionative 
and  dogmatical ;  they  are  imperious  and  self-indul- 
gent ;  they  are  severe  and  satirical ;  they  are  beset 
with  strong  prejudices  or  evil  tempers ;  and  their  ex- 
cellence is  as  inaccessible  as  the  fragrance  of  a  thorny 
rose  or  the  nectar  inside  an  adamant  shell.  But  in 
that  genial  region,  the  spirits  of  the  just  are  perfect. 
Jacob  is  not  wily,  Thomas  is  not  obstinate,  Peter  is 
not  precipitate ;  but,  like  those  plants  which  grow  tall 
enough  to  leave  all  their  youthful  spines  behind  them 
— like  those  wines  which  grow  old  enough  to  outlive 
their  original  austerity — the  flaws,  the  failures  of 
earthly  piety  all  have  vanished  in  that  perfect  world. 


218  DISCOURSES. 

But  apart  from  the  growing  gainliness  of  the  celestial 
citizens,  the  grace  of  love  has  also  grown.  Freed 
from  the  false  fire  which  so  oft  intermingled  with  it 
in  former  days,  it  becomes  a  pure  and  God-like  affec- 
tion, going  forth  to  all  that  is  holy,  and  acquiring 
fresh  force  constantly  from  the  exhaustless  aliment 
of  heaven.  And  whilst  capable  of  specific  attach- 
ments and  congenial  communings,  it  has  all  the  con- 
fidence of  the  widest  good-will ;  no  shyness  to  the 
new-come  denizen — no  stiffness,  no  mien  of  stranger- 
hood,  to  the  redeemed  of  other  countries  ; — but  assur- 
ing looks  and  words  of  welcome  to  all  who,  from  east 
and  west  and  north  and  south,  arrive  and  sit  down  with 
Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob  in  the  kingdom  of  God. 
5.  May  we  not  add,  that  the  many  mansions  suggest 
the  many  occupations?  The  earthly  temple  Jesus 
sometimes  called  his  Father's  house ;  and  within  the 
precincts  of  that  temple  there  were  many  chambers 
where  priests  and  Levites  and  singers  lodged,  and 
perhaps  such  devout  worshippers  as  Simeon  and  Anna, 
who  departed  not  from  the  temple  night  and  day, 
serving  God.*  And  so  says  the  Saviour  : — '  As  all 
around  this  earthly  fane  there  are  many  residences, 
so  in  the  heavenly  temple  there  is  accommodation 
not  for  one  or  two — not  for  myself  alone,  its  great 
High  Priest,  who  am  now  departing  thither;  but 
there  are  many  mansions — there  is  space  for  a  mul- 

•Dr  J.  Brown,  "  Discourses  of  Our  Lord,"  iii.  27- 


THE  father's  house.  219 

fitude  which  no  man  can  number ;  room  enough,  I 
assure  you,  for  all  of  you,  and  for  all  who  shall 
believe  through  your  word.  And  as,  amidst  your 
love  to  myself  and  my  Father,  you  may  be  conscious 
of  different  tastes  and  aptitudes,  so  there  shall  still  be 
scope  for  these.  You  shall  all  dwell  in  my  Father's 
house ;  but  just  as  among  the  occupants  of  these 
temple-chambers,  there  are  some  whose  special  busi- 
ness it  is  to  offer  sacrifice,  whilst  others  lead  the 
psalmody — there  are  some  who  read  the  law,  and 
others  who  trim  the  lamps  and  deck  the  tables :  so 
in  my  Father's  house  are  many  mansions,  for  there 
arc  many  ministers: — a  several  office  for  each,  and 
room  for  all.'  God  has  given  to  each  his  talent  and 
his  temperament,  and  in  the  Church  below  He  has 
made  this  diversity  of  gifts  not  a  discord  but  a  sym- 
phony— a  source  not  of  confusion  and  disorder,  but 
of  beauty  and  stable  symmetry.  And  so,  doubtless, 
will  it  continue  on  high.  The  lily,  when  you  rescue 
it  from  among  the  thorns,  or  when  from  the  windy 
storm  and  the  tempest  you  take  it  into  the  sunny 
shelter,  does  not  become  a  palm  or  a  cedar,  but  only 
a  fairer,  sweeter  lily  than  before.  And  a  topaz  or  a 
hire  of  earth,  if  taken  to  build  the  walls  of  the 
Jerusalem,  does  not  become  an  emerald  or  an 
amethyst,  but  remains  a  topaz  or  a  sapphire  still. 
And,  translated  from  the  tarnish  and  attrition  of  time, 
it  is  easy  to  understand  how  each  glorified  nature 


220  DISCOURSES. 

will  retain  in  a  higher  sphere  its  original  fitness  and 
inherent  affinities  ;  and  how  for  the  many  mansions 
there  will  not  only  be  many  occupants,  hut  every 
occupant  may  have  his  own  office  even  there.  It  is 
easy  to  imagine  that  Isaac  still  wfll  meditate,  and 
that  the  sweet  singer  of  Israel  shall  neither  be  at  a 
loss  for  a  golden  harp,  nor  good  matter  in  a  song. 
It  is  easy  to  imagine  that  Paul  will  find  some  outlet 
for  his  eloquence,  and  Peter  for  his  energy ;  and  not 
easy  to  conceive  that  John  the  divine  will  be  the 
same  as  Philip  or  Matthew,  or  Martha  the  busy  house- 
keeper the  same  as  Mary  the  adoring  listener.  To 
every  precious  stone  there  remains  its  several  tint; 
to  every  star  its  own  glory  ;  to  every  denizen  of  the 
Church  above  his  own  office ;  and  to  every  member 
of  the  heavenly  family  his  own  mansion. 

Our  meditation  has  been  of  the  Father's  house ; 
and  the  great  concern  with  each  of  us  should  be,  Am 
I  going  thither  ?  Heaven  is  the  Father's  house — but 
the  Father's  house  is  the  children's  house.  Am  I  a 
child  of  God?  Can  I  say,  Abba,  Father?  Have  I 
that  love  to  God,  that  where  He  is  it  would  be  my 
wish  and  joy  to  be  ?  It  is  the  holy  place.  Would  a 
holy  place  please  me  ?  Do  I  delight  in  holy  employ- 
ments now?  Do  I  love  the  Sabbath-day?  Do  I 
love  the  house  of  God  below  ?  Do  I  love  my  brothers 
and    sisters — those    meek    and    humble    ones    with 


the  father's  house.  221 

whom  God's  great  house  is  filling  ?  And  am  I  on 
the  way  ?  or,  rather,  am  I  in  the  way  ?  Jesus  is 
the  way  to  Heaven.  Am  I  in  Christ?  Is  He  to 
me  "  the  hope  of  glory  ?"  Do  I  seek  to  be  found  in 
Him,  not  having  my  own  righteousness,  but  His  ? 

If  through  grace  you  have  good  hope  of  this — if 
you  believe  in  God  and  in  Jesus — then  cherish  home- 
like feelings  towards  the  Father's  house.  Like  an 
ocean  pilgrim  who  espies  a  speck  of  dimness,  a  wedge 
of  vapour,  rising  from  the  deep,  and  in  the  cold 
evening  he  scarcely  cares  to  be  told  that  it  is  land — 
chill  and  sleepy,  he  sees  no  comfort  for  him  in  a  little 
heap  of  distant  haze  —  but,  after  a  night's  sound 
slumber,  springing  to  the  deck,  the  hazy  hummock  has 
spread  out  into  a  green  and  glittering  shore,  with  the 
stir  and  floating  streamers  of  a  holiday  in  its  villages, 
and  with  early  summer  in  the  gale  which  morning 
fetches  from  off  its  meadow  flowers :  so  many  a  believer, 
even,  has  far-off  and  frosty  sensations  towards  the 
Better  Land ;  and  it  is  not  till  refreshed  from  time's 
tumult — till  waking  up  in  some  happy  Sabbath's 
spiritual-mindedness,  or  skirting  the  celestial  coast  in 
tha  proximity  of  sickness  and  decline — that  the  dim 
speck  projects  into  a  solid  shore,  bright  with  blessed 
life,  and  fragrant  with  empyreal  air. 

"  Thou  city  of  my  God, 

Home  of  my  heart,  how  near, 
At  times,  to  faith's  foreseeing  eye 
Thy  pearly  gates  appear  ! 


222  DISCOURSES. 

"  Oh,  then  my  spirit  pants 
To  reach  the  land  I  love, 
The  fair  inheritance  of  saints, 
Jerusalem  above." 

And  as  with  its  remoteness,  so  with  its  attractions. 
You  might  imagine  a  man  who  had  come  far  across  the 
seas  to  visit  a  father  whom  he  had  not  seen  for  many 
years,  and  in  a  house  which  he  had  never  seen  at  all. 
And,  coming  to  that  part  of  the  country,  he  espies  a 
mansion  with  which  he  is  nowise  prepossessed,  so 
huge  and  heavy  does  it  look :  but  he  is  told  that  this 
is  the  dwelling,  and  a  gruff  ungainly  porter  opens 
for  him  the  grand  avenue  gate  ; — and  no  sooner  does 
he  find  himself  in  the  vestibule  than  a  home-glow 
tells  him  he  is  right,  and  his  elder  brother  hastens 
out  to  meet  him,  and  conducts  him  to  his  chamber, 
and  soon  ushers  him  into  the  presence  of  friends  whom 
he  is  amazedand  overjoyed  to  meet.  So,  in  the  thought 
that  we  must  put  off  these  tabernacles  and  pass  away 
we  know  not  whither,  there  is  something  from  which 
nature  secretly  recoils,  and  which  gives  to  the  earth- 
ward side  of  the  Father's  house  a  blank  and  heavy 
look  ;  and  at  the  avenue  gate  Death,  the  grim  porter, 
none  of  us  can  like.  But  still  it  is  the  Father's 
house;  and  by  preparing  an  apartment  for  us,  and 
decorating  it  with  His  own  hands,  and  by  introducing 
us  to  dear  kindred  already  there,  our  Elder  Brother 
will  do  all  He  can  to  make  it  Home. 


ftdertfefos* 


L    A  NOCTURNAL  VISITOR. 

H.    THE  BANQUET-HALL. 

IIL    A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL. 

I?.    ANOTHER   YOUNG   MAN   WHO   LEFT   ALL,    AND 
FOLLOWED  JESUS. 


Ifrttonal  $rsttor. 


The  Jewish  Sanhedrim  was  a  sort  of  parliament,  a 
supreme  national  council,  possessing  also  the  powers 
of  a  court  of  justice.  Disputes  as  to  the  interpreta- 
tion of  the  law  were  referred  to  its  decision,  and  in 
cases  of  heresy  and  blasphemy  it  exercised  the  right 
of  punishing  offenders,  sometimes  even  putting  them 
to  death.  Of  this  high  court  there  were  seventy 
members.  Some  of  them  were  ecclesiastics,  and  some 
were  laymen.  Besides  the  primate,  or  high  priest,  who 
was  the  official  president,  and  at  whose  entrance  all 
the  members  arose,  and  continued  standing  till  he 
requested  them  to  be  seated,  there  was  a  number  of 
other  sacerdotal  personages,  called  chief  priests,  pro- 
bably the  heads  of  the  different  divisions,  or  "courses" 
into  which  this  class  was  distributed.  And  besides 
some  elders  of  the  people,  corresponding  to  our  Saxon 
aldermen,  or  our  modern  knights  of  the  shire,  this 
council  contained  some  of  those  scribes,  or  lay  students 
of  the  law,  who  were  distinguished  for  their  know- 
ledge of  Scripture  and  tradition.     Altogether,  it  was 


226  INTERVIEWS. 

a  grave  and  august  assembly,  including  within  itself 
priests,  elders,  and  scribes,  the  leading  churchmen  and 
the  most  celebrated  scholars  throughout  the  land, 
with  the  flower  of  the  Hebrew  aristocracy ;  and,  all 
the  rather  because  the  number  was  so  limited,  it  was 
an  object  of  great  ambition  to  be  ft  member  of  San- 
hedrim, and  known  throughout  the  country  as  a 
"ruler  of  the  Jews." 

This  was  the  rank  of  Nicodemus  :  he  was  what 
we  may  call  a  peer  of  the  Hebrew  parliament,  and  in 
his  religious  profession  he  was  a  Pharisee.     He  was 
evidently  a  man  of  thought  and  seriousness,  and  he 
had  been  greatly  struck  by  the  incidents  attending 
Christ's  first  public  visit  to  Jerusalem.     The  cleansing 
of  the  temple,  the  miracles  which  Jesus  had  wrought, 
the  excitement  awakened  in  the  mind  of  the  com- 
munity,  together   with  the    general    expectation   of 
Messiah's  speedy  appearance,  had  produced  a  deep 
impression  on  Nicodemus.     It  was  evident  that  Jesus 
was  a  prophet ;  it  was  not  impossible  that  He  might 
be  that  great  Prophet  promised  to  the  fathers.     If 
He  were  Messiah,  there  was  no  time  to  lose ;  if  He 
were  only  an  ordinary  teacher  come  from  God,  He 
might  still  throw  light  on  questions  which  occasioned 
anxiety  to  this  "master  in  Israel."     As  yet  the  fol- 
lowers of  Jesus  were  only  peasants  and  poor  people. 
1  This,'  Nicodemus  might  inwardly  argue,'  i  will  ren- 
der a  visit  from  a  ruler  all  the  more  flattering,  and 


A  NOCTURNAL  VISITOR.  227 

on  the  mere  ground  of  my  rank  I  may  hope  for  a 
cordial  reception.7  At  the  same  time,  the  circum- 
stance that  Jesus  had  no  adherents  of  wealth  or  dis- 
tinction made  Nicodemus  afraid  to  compromise  him- 
self. He  therefore  resolved  on  a  course  which  he 
hoped  would  at  once  solve  his  doubts  and  save  his 
dignity. 

It  was  April — in  Palestine  soft  as  an  English  sum- 
mer— and  the  remainder  of  a  Passover  moon,  which 
was  lighting  the  pilgrims  to  their  far-away  homes, 
silvered  over  the  temple,  and  flecked  with  deep  sha- 
dows its  white  marble  porticos.  And  as  he  steals 
down  the  silent  streets,  whither  is  the  statesman 
hieing  ?  for  what  clandestine  errand  has  Nicodemus 
muffled  himself  in  his  mantle,  and  waited  for  the 
covert  of  the  night  ?  It  is  a  humble  lodging  at  which 
he  pauses,  and  as  he  enters  it  is  a  plain  man  whom 
he  accosts.  But  though  the  visitor  has  a  great  signet- 
ring  on  his  finger  and  a  towering  turban  on  his  head 
— all  the  insignia  of  wealth  and  high  station — it  is 
with  marked  deference — perhaps  we  should  say  it 
is  not  without  a  certain  awkward  air  of  embarrass- 
ment— that  he  salutes  the  Galilean  stranger.  "  Rabbi, 
we  know  *  that  thou  art  a  teacher  come  from  God : 
for  no  man  can  do  these  miracles  that  thou  doest, 
except  God  be  with  him."  As  shortly  beforehand 
in  the  case  of  Nathanael,  so  now  with  Nicodemus, 

•  "  We  know  !    That  waa  the  lofty  word  of  the  learned."— Stier. 


228  INTERVIEWS. 

Jesus  confirms  the  inquirer's  impression,  and  justifies 
His  claim  to  be  called  a  prophet,  by  giving  a  speci- 
men of  His  prophetic  intuition.  Without  waiting  to 
hear  the  ruler's  question,  by  anticipation  He  answers 
it.  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  Except  a  man 
be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  kingdom  of  God." 
( You  are  here  to  inquire  about  Messiah's  kingdom. 
Become  a  new  creature,  and  then  you  will  be  a  mem- 
ber of  it.'  "How  can  it  be?"  rejoins  the  ruler. 
As  if  he  said,  '  We  Jews  are  sufficiently  regenerate. 
We  have  Abraham  to  our  father,  and  the  kingdom 
of  God  belongs  to  us.  You  might  as  soon  say  that 
a  man  needs  to  be  twice  born  into  this  world,  as  that 
a  Jew  needs  to  be  twice  born  into  God's  kingdom. 
We  are  in  it  already.'  Then,  in  words  fitted  to 
remind  Nicodemus  of  John's  baptism,  Jesus  replies, 
"Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee" — not  to  the  Jews 
generally,  but  to  thee,  Nicodemus — u  Except  a  man  be 
born  of  water  and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  God."  l  It  is  common  among  you 
Jews  to  say  that  a  Gentile  needs  to  become  a  new 
creature  in  order  to  get  the  benefits  of  the  Hebrew 
commonwealth — the  privileges  of  the  peculiar  people ; 
and  when  you  accept  him  as  a  proselyte  he  is  bap- 
tized, and  by  that  symbol  of  washing  shews  that  he 
is  cleansed  from  his  old  heathenism  and  adopted  into 
God's  family.  But  a  few  months  ago  not  the  hea- 
thens but  the  Hebrews — all  Jerusalem  and  all  Judea— 


A  NOCTURNAL  VISITOR.  229 

went  out  to  John  and  were  baptized  of  him  in  Jordan, 
confessing  their  sins,  and  professing  to  repent,  for 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  was  at  hand.  Perhaps  you 
have  been  born  of  that  water.  Perhaps  you  have 
passed  under  John's  baptismal  washing.  And  in  so 
doing  you  have  confessed  your  need,  Jew  as  you 
are — your  need  to  be  born  again,  in  order  to  be  fit  for 
Messiah's  kingdom;  and  unless  you  have  really 
repented,  as  you  then  professed  to  do — unless  you 
have  been  born  of  the  Spirit,  as  well  as  of  that 
water — you  cannot  enter  the  kingdom  of  God.  It  is 
true  your  descent  from  Abraham  entitles  you  to 
certain  privileges:  but  it  does  not  entitle  you  to 
heaven.  From  Abraham  you  can  only  derive  a 
depraved  and  corrupt  nature.  From  the  Spirit  of 
God  you  need  to  receive  a  new  and  spiritual  mind. 
"  That  which  is  born  of  the  flesh  is  flesh  ;  and  that 
which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit."  "  Marvel  not  that 
I  said  unto  thee,  Ye  must  be  bom  again."  '  True,  it  is 
a  mystery — but  how  many  things  are  mysteries !  Hark 
to  that  sighing  breeze.  Your  eye  cannot  catch  it.  You 
gee  not  where  the  current  of  air  commenced,  nor,  now 
tliat  it  is  passed  onits  viewless  path,  can  you  tell  whither 
it  has  gone.  Yet  you  hear  its  sound,  you  feel  its 
force :  in  the  waving  branches  and  the  flying  clouds 
you  perceive  its  effects.  And  so  it  is  not  by  per- 
ceiving the  Spirit  in  His  progress,  or  watching  His 
proceedings,  but   by  marking  the  results,  that  you 


230  INTERVIEWS. 

know  when  a  man  is  born  from  above/  Still,  to  the 
inquirer,  it  was  a  dark  enigma.  "  How  can  these 
things  be?"  'Are  you  a  public  instructor,  a 
student  and  authorised  expounder  of  Scripture,  and 
yet  do  you  not  know  these  things?  Do  you  not 
know  that  God  is  holy,  and  requires  a  holy  nature  in 
the  subjects  of  His  kingdom  ?  You  stumble  at  the 
saying ;  yet  we  speak  that  which  we  do  know,  and 
testify  that  which  we  have  seen.  And,  indeed,  this 
doctrine  of  Regeneration  may  be  called  an  earthly 
thing  :  an  earthly  man  might  almost  concede  it :  for 
even  an  earthly  man  might  be  persuaded  that  he 
would  need  to  become  something  else  than  he  now  is 
before  he  is  fit  to  see  and  enjoy  God.  But  if  this 
earthly  thing  perplexes  you — a  truth  scarcely  beyond 
the  reach  of  reason — how  shall  you  believe  if  I  tell 
you  of  heavenly  things  ?  This  necessity  of  a  spiri- 
tual renovation  is  so  obvious  that  it  scarcely  needed 
a  teacher  come  from  God  to  tell  it :  one  might  have 
expected  that  your  own  conscience  would  have  at 
once  assented,  and  that  on  the  very  score  of  the  fitness 
of  things  you  would  have  granted  that,  before  he 
enters  a  spiritual  community,  the  candidate  must 
become  a  spiritual  man.  Yet  if  you  hesitate  when  I 
assert  a  truth  so  obvious  and  so  open  to  your  own 
cognisance,  how  will  you  believe  if  I  proceed  to 
answer  your  question,  and  to  tell  you  heavenly  things 
— things  where  your  own  experience  cannot  help  you, 


A  NOCTURNAL  VISITOR.  231 

and  where  you  must  proceed  entirely  on  the  testimony 
of  the  only  person  now  on  earth  who  ever  was  in 
heaven.' 

Nevertheless,  in  His  condescension,  and  looking 
forward  to  a  time  when  the  invisible  ink  would 
darken,  and  when  lessons  now  lost  would  freshen  on 
the  listener's  memory,  Jesus  went  on  to  state  a  few  of 
these  heavenly  things.  In  other  words,  He  at  once 
explained  the  means  by  which  a  soul  dead  in  tres- 
passes is  made  alive  to  God,  or  bom  again ;  and 
in  the  same  utterance  He  corrected  the  erroneous  pre- 
conceptions regarding  God's  kingdom  which  filled 
the  mind  of  His  visitor.  '  You  fancy  that  Messiah 
is  to  be  exalted  on  the  throne  of  David  His  father; 
and  whilst,  like  a  potter's  vessel,  He  dashes  in  pieces 
the  pagans,  you  expect  that  in  His  exaltation  Israel 
is  to  rise  to  be  supreme  among  the  nations.  But  that 
is  incorrect.  For  first,  it  is  not  on  a  throne,  and  as  a 
conqueror,  that  the  Son  of  man  is  to  be  exalted,  but 
more  as  Moses  raised  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness, 
and  like  that  serpent,  not  a  sight  of  terror  but  a  spec- 
tacle of  healing.  And  secondly,  it  is  not  for  the  de- 
struction of  the  heathen,  but  for  the  salvation  of  the 
world,  that  Messiali  is  come.*'  "  For  God  so  loved," 
not  the  Hebrew  people,  but  mankind,  "  that  he  gave 
his  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in 
him  [whether  Gentile  or  Jew]  should  not  perish  but 

•  Dr  J.  Brown's  "  DiMoumes  of  Oar  Lord."  vol.  i.  p.  18. 


232  INTERVIEWS. 

have  everlasting  life.  For  [at  present]  God  has  not 
sent  his  Son  into  the  world  to  condemn  the  world ; 
but  that  the  world  through  him  might  be  saved." 
And  thirdly,  Messiah's  coming  is  no  exaltation  of 
the  Jews  at  the  cost  of  the  Gentiles ;  for  he  that 
bilieveth  on  Him,  even  the  Gentile  who  receives 
Messiah  in  the  capacity  in  which  God  sends  Him,  is 
not  condemned;  but  he  that  believeth  not,  even 
although  he  be  a  Jew,  is  condemned  already,  because 
he  has  rejected  God's  Messenger,  and  refused  as  a 
Saviour  God's  only  Son.  Nicodemus,  do  you  de- 
part? Are  you  only  half  convinced?  It  is  not  for 
want  of  evidence  if  you  are  not  fully  persuaded. 
Light  has  now  come  into  the  world.  That  Light  is 
here.  I  am  the  Light  of  the  World  ;  but  you  fear  to 
let  the  truth  shine  fully  upon  you,  for  you  cannot 
afford  the  consequences.' 

Such,  as  we  apprehend  it,  is  the  purport  of  what 
transpired  in  this  remarkable  interview — the  first  of 
our  Lord's  fully-recorded  conversations.  He  taught 
Nicodemus  some  "  earthly  things;"  some  things  which 
had  been  already  revealed  to  mankind  in  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  which,  as  a  teacher  in  Israel,  Nicodemus 
ought  to  have  known;  things  which  might  commend 
themselves  to  unsophisticated  reason,  and  to  which 
the  conscience  of  Nicodemus  ought  at  once  to  have 
responded.  He  taught  that  Messiah's  kingdom  was 
God's  realm— a  community  of  holy  men ;  and  that;  in 


A  NOCTURNAL  VISITOR. 

order  to  be  admitted,  it  was  not  enough  to  be  de- 
scended from  Abraham — a  man  would  need  to  be  born 
of  G0d — he  would  need  to  get  again  those  tastes  and 
affections  which  that  son  of  God,  unfallen  Adam,  once 
possessed.  He  reminded  Nicodemus  of  those  lustra- 
tions which  Gentile  proselytes  underwent  when  they 
were  "born"  into  the  Hebrew  commonwealth,  and 
which,  possibly,  Nicodemus  had  undergone  at  the 
hands  of  the  Baptist  as  an  acknowledgment  of  sin 
and  as  a  preparation  for  Messiah's  expected  advent; 
but  He  taught  him,  that  except  a  man  experience  an 
inward  purification  corresponding  to  the  outward  sign 
— unless  he  be  born  of  the  Spirit  as  well  as  of  water 
— u  he  cannot  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."  These 
were  earthly  things.  They  were  things  already 
revealed,  and  which  belonged  to  Nicodemus  and  all 
his  brethren.  And  they  were  things  which,  approving 
themselves  to  a  sound  understanding,  it  should  not 
have  required  a  teacher  come  from  God  to  repeat 
and  inculcate.  Then  Jesus  taught  this  ruler  some 
heavenly  things.  He  taught  some  things  which  were 
not  yet  plainly  promulgated,  and  which  were  only 
known  to  the  Son  of  man  who  is  in  heaven.  He  told 
how,  in  some  mysterious  manner  corresponding 
to  the  elevation  of  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness, 
He  Himself  was  to  become  the  means  of  a  new 
existence — the  author  of  a  spiritual  and  everlasting 
life  to  depraved   and  dying  men.     He  taught  that 


234  INTERVIEWS. 

Messiah's  errand  is  not  local  or  national,  but  that  He 
is  God's  gift  of  love  to  all  mankind.  And  He  taught 
that  in  order  for  even  a  Jew  and  a  convert  of  John 
the  Baptist  to  be  saved,  it  was  needful  to  believe  on 
the  Son  of  God;  it  was  needful  to  recognise  Him 
in  the  character  in  which  God  revealed  Him,  and 
to  receive  Him  in  the  capacity  in  which  God  sent 
Him. 

Thus  much  was  taught.  How  much  wras  compre- 
hended or  believed  at  the  moment  we  cannot  tell. 
We  only  know  that  Nicodemus  did  not  then,  nor  for 
a  great  while  after,  il  come  to  the  light."  Next  morn- 
ing, no  one  knew  where  he  had  been ;  and  perhaps  if 
he  had  met  his  instructor  in  the  temple  courts  on  the 
following  day,  he  would  have  passed  Him  without 
recognition.  Still,  the  conversation  was  not  lost.  It 
lingered  in  his  memory.  He  mused  on  both  its 
earthly  things  and  its  heavenly  things ;  and,  feeling 
more  than  ever  that  Jesus  was  a  teacher  come  from 
God,  doubtless  he  had  many  a  secret  wish  to  become, 
like  John  and  Andrew,  one  of  His  disciples.  But 
they  were  all  poor  Galileans,  and  Nicodemus  was  one 
of  the  most  distinguished  residents  in  Jerusalem. 
Besides,  it  is  a  hard  thing  for  the  preceptor  to 
become  a  pupil:  it  is  a  sore  descent  for  the  public 
instructor  to  acknowledge  his  ignorance,  and  come 
down  from  the  chair  of  the  teacher  to  the  bench  of  the 
learner. 


a  NOcrrKXAi.  visitor.  235 

Two  years  passed  on,  and  Nicodemus  was  not  sus- 
pected. It  was  the  last  Feast  of  Tabernacles  which 
Jesus  attended,  and  so  great  was  the  popular  excite- 
ment regarding  Him,  that  a  meeting  of  the  Sanhedrim 
was  called,  and  the  priests  sent  officers  to  arrest  Him. 
The  Sanhedrim  met,  and  Nicodemus  attended.  You 
wonder  what  were  his  thoughts.  Doubtless  he 
deemed  it  safer  to  take  his  place  in  the  court,  than 
occasion  remark  by  his  absence.  And  possibly  he 
hoped  that  an  opportunity  might  arise  of  befriending 
the  teacher  come  from  God :  he  might  do  something 
to  demonstrate  His  excellence,  or  to  mitigate  the 
malice  of  His  enemies.  Oh !  what  a  perilous  part  to 
sustain  is  the  part  of  a  secret  disciple  !  And  well 
was  it  for  Nicodemus — perhaps  it  saved  him  from 
forestalling  the  cowardly  compliances  of  Pilate  or 
the  suicidal  treachery  of  Judas — that  no  trial  took 
place  that  day.  The  court  was  in  conclave.  The 
officers  had  been  a  good  time  absent;  but  as  it  was 
notorious  where  Jesus  could  be  found,  no  doubt  was 
felt  but  that  they  would  soon  arrive  with  their  pri- 
soner. And  here  they  come  at  last ;  but  instead  of 
the  rush  and  uproar  of  a  mob  scrambling  for  admit- 
tance, as  when  an  important  prisoner  is  led  in,  the 
Pharisees  are  aghast,  for  nobody  enters  except  these 
foolish-looking  officials.  "  Why  have  ye  not  brought 
Him  ?  "  shouts  an  ecclesiastic.  "  Never  man  spake 
like  this  man,"  stammers  one  of  the  apparitors.     I 


IT  IT  I 


236  INTERVIEWS. 

can  quite  believe  you,  thinks  one  of  the  judges,  for  I 
have  heard  Him  myself.  However,  that  was  a  silent 
rejoinder;  and  one  of  his  colleagues  sneered  at  the 
poor  bailiffs,  "  Are  you  also  deluded  ?  Has  any  ruler 
or  Pharisee  believed  in  Him?"  And  he  cursed  the 
lower  orders  for  not  understanding  the  law.  "  The 
law?"  interposed  a  calmer  voice:  it  was  Nico- 
demus  catching  up  his  neighbour's  execration  of 
the  people  who  do  not  know  the  law :  u  doth  our 
law  judge  any  man  before  it  hear  him,  and  know 
what  he  doeth?"  At  which  the  angry  spokesman 
turned  on  him,  "  Art  thou  also  of  Galilee  ?  Search 
and  look,  for  out  of  Galilee  ariseth  no  prophet." 
Nicodemus  did  not  answer;  the  council  broke  up; 
every  man  went  to  his  own  house;  and  "he  who 
came  to  Jesus  by  night"  still  went  about  wearing 
his  disguise. 

Other  six  months  passed  on,  and  Nicodemus  had 
not  lost  his  prepossession  for  this  "  teacher  come  from 
God."  Doubtless  he  often  mused  on  that  first  and 
memorable  interview,  and  possibly  some  of  its  say- 
ings began  to  brighten  on  his  mind.  Most  likely  he 
was  now  convinced  of  the  earthly  things,  and  in  his 
own  timidity  and  time-serving  found  another  reason 
why  a  man  must  be  born  again  before  he  can  enter 
God's  kingdom.  But  was  Jesus  really  the  Son  of 
God?  As  such  to  receive  or  reject  Him — is  this 
actually  the  alternative  of  everlasting  life  or  death — 


A  NOCTURNAL  VISITOR.  237 

the  hinge  of  heaven  or  hell?  And  what  is  meant  by 
the  Son  of  man  being  set  on  high,  as  Moses  set 
on  high  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness?  These 
queries,  as  he  revolved  them  in  his  mind,  deepened 
his  though tfulness  and  intensified  his  interest  in  the 
Prophet  of  Galilee ;  but  although  Nicodemus  was  the 
confidant  of  a  fuller  gospel,  though  Jesus  had  com- 
municated to  him  some  particulars  of  which  no  other 
was  yet  in  possession,  still  he  kept  aloof;  and,  the 
very  converse  of  Nathanael  the  guileless  Israelite,  he 
waited  till  the  last  of  his  difficulties  should  dispel, 
and  his  cautious  mind  be  carried  captive  by  some 
conclusive  and  resistless  token.  Amidst  these  medi- 
tations the  rumour  ran  that  Jesus  was  at  last  in 
the  hands  of  His  enemies ;  and  that  incident,  which 
shocked  and  scattered  the  open  disciples,  was  a  spell 
which  drew  this  secret,  disciple  to  Calvary.  There  it 
was — "  As  Moses  lifted  up  tne  serpent,  so  the  Son  of 
man  was  at  last  lifted  up."  He  was  lifted  up,  and 
He  drew  Nicodemus  to  Him.  His  own  mysterious 
prophecy  is  now  fulfilled ;  and  this  "  Son  of  man  "  is 
withal  the  "  Son  of  God."  The  heathen  centurion 
has  just  exclaimed  as  much,  and  Nicodemus  feels  it 
true.  His  death  is  a  miracle  eclipsing  all  the  marvels 
of  His  life,  and  "  truly  this  is  the  Son  of  God."  To 
Nicodemus  what  a  commentary  was  now  visible  on 
the  words  of  that  eventful  evening,  "  For  God  so 
loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only-begotten  Sonf 


238  INTERVIEWS. 

that  whosoever  believeth  in  him  should  not  perish, 
but  have  everlasting  life."  Nicodemus  now  believed; 
and  by  the  same  incidents  which  stumbled  others, 
and  made  all  men  forsake  Him  and  flee — by  the  same 
signs,  convinced  and  converted,  the  ruler  tore  off  the 
mask,  and  pressed  forward  to  honour  the  lifeless 
remains  of  the  uplifted  Messiah.  But,  lo !  the  same 
moment  has  uplifted  the  visor  of  another  secret 
disciple.  A  brother  ruler  also  believes.  For  already 
Joseph  of  Arimathea,  being  a  disciple  of  Jesus,  but 
secretly  for  fear  of  the  Jews,  has  besought  Pilate  that 
he  might  take  away  the  body  of  Jesus ;  and  thus  He 
who  in  life  had  nowhere  to  lay  His  head  "  makes 
his  grave  with  the  rich,"*  and  the  obsequies  of  the 
crucified  Nazarene  are  conducted  by  two  of  the  chief 
men  of  Jerusalem. 

•  mm * 


€\t  ^anqntt  pall. 


Jesus  was  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  people,  when 
two  disciples  of  John  the  Baptist  arrived  with  a 
message  from  their  master :  "  Art  thou  he  that 
should  come?  or  look  we  for  another?"  The  motive 
of  that  message  we  need  not  now  discuss.  The 
Saviour  did  not  instantly  reply.  He  first  preached 
the  gospel,  and  He  cured  many  of  their  diseases,  and 
then  He  added,  "  Tell  John  what  things  ye  have  seen 
and  heard ;  how  that  the  blind  see,  the  lame  walk, 
the  lepers  are  cleansed,  the  deaf  hear,  the  dead  are 
raised,  to  the  poor  the  gospel  is  preached :  and  blessed 
is  he,  whosoever  shall  not  be  offended  in  me."  That 
is,  Messiah  is  come,  for  the  prophecies  concerning 
Him  are  fulfilled.*  Messiah  is  come,  for  "  the  lame 
man  leaps  as  an  hart,  and  the  tongue  of  the  dumb 
sings."  Messiah  is  come,  for  instead  of  the  old 
monopoly  by  which  the  rich  and  the  reputable 
restricted  salvation  to  themselves,  the  kingdom  of 
heaven   throws   open  its  gates  to   the   outcast  and 

•  Isaiah  lxi.,  1-3 ;  xxxv.,  5,  6. 


240  INTERVIEWS. 

ignorant, — to  those  whom  the  priesthood  despises 
because  they  have  nothing  to  pay,  to  those  whom  the 
learned  despise  because  they  know  not  the  law, — 
nay,  to  those  who  are  in  their  own  eyes  small  and 
despised,  for  as  regards  all  moral  worth  they  know 
that  they  are  bankrupts  and  pauper.'?.  To  the  poor 
the  gospel  is  preached. 

John's  messengers  departed,  and  when  they  were 
gone, 'still  dwelling  on  this  merciful  aspect  of  His 
mission,  Jesus  rejoiced  in  spirit,  and  spoke  aloud  the 
thought  which  had  lighted  up  his  countenance :  "  I 
thank  thee,  O  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth, 
because  thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and 
prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  unto  babes."  And 
then,  addressing  the  audience,  He  added,  u  All  things 
are  delivered  unto  me  of  my  Father:  and  no  man 
knoweth  the  Son  but  the  Father,  and  he  to  whomso- 
ever the  Son  will  reveal  him.  Come  unto  me,  all  ye 
that  labour,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest."  That  is,  '  I  am  the  Father's  plenipotentiary. 
I  know  His  very  mind,  and  I  am  invested  with  all 
His  authority.  Churchmen  can  prescribe  penances, 
but  I  can  give  pardon.  Scribes  can  lay  on  heavy 
burdens,  and  bid  you  labour  for  eternal  life,  but  I  can 
give  you  rest.  Your  own  hearts  can  teach  you  that 
sin  has  made  you  outlaws  from  God,  but  I  can  make 
you  again  His  children  and  friends.  Become  you  my 
disciples.'     "  Take  my  yoke  upon  you  and  learn  of 


THE  BANQUET  HALL.  241 

mo ;  for  I  am  meek  and  lowly  in  heart :  and  ye  shall 
find  rest  unto  your  souls.  For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and 
my  burden  is  light." 

Of  the  crowd  then  gathered  round  the  Saviour, 
two  members  now  become  prominent.  One  of  them 
was  a  gentleman,  respectable  and  religiously  inclined. 
Like  Nicodemus,  he  was  not  quite  a  convert  to  the 
new  Teacher's  doctrine ;  and  yet  he  was  impressed 
by  His  elevation  and  earnestness.  His  miracles  were 
amazing.  He  had  just  restored  to  life  Simon's  young 
neighbour,  the  son  of  the  widow  at  Nain,  and  that 
very  morning  He  had  by  His  astonishing  cures  con- 
ferred unspeakable  obligations  on  the  district  of  which 
Simon  was  a  principal  inhabitant.  Perhaps,  too,  the 
day  might  come  when  Jesus  should  be  more  distin- 
guished ;  and  if  He  really  rose  to  be  king  of  Israel 
— if  He  should  actually  turn  out  the  successor  of 
David  and  Solomon — it  would  always  be  something 
to  recall,  u  Oh  yes !  He  was  once  in  this  house,  and 
dined  at  this  very  table."  But  Jesus  was  still  despised 
by  Simon's  own  class.  None  of  the  rulers  believed 
on  Him.  I  lis  attendants  were  fishermen,  and  all  Hi3 
antecedents  were  obscure, — Bethlehem,  Nazareth,  the 
carpenter's  cottage, — and  in  his  lowly  guise  Simon 
received  him  patronisingly.  Had  He  been  a  man  of 
his  own  rank,  or  one  whom  he  delighted  to  honour, 
he  would  have  met  Him  in  the  door-way  with  a  cor- 
dial embrace,  and  conducting  Him  into  the  banquet- 


242  INTERVIEWS. 

room,  the  attendants  would  have  taken  off  His 
sandals,  and  would  have  laved  His  feet  and  hands 
with  fragrant  waters,  whilst  the  host  himself  would 
have  poured  upon  His  locks  the  shining  oil.  But 
Simon  was  a  Pharisee — accustomed  to  judge  after 
the  outward  appearance — and  to  his  view  Jesus  was 
quite  as  much  the  poor  man  as  the  good  man.  He 
felt  that  it  was  condescension  to  receive  such  a  visitor 
and  by  the  compromising  way  in  which  he  managed 
the  matter,  he  shewed  quite  as  much  anxiety  for  his 
own  reputation,  as  gratitude  or  reverence  towards  his 
guest. 

Simon  was  blind  to  the  real  character  of  Jesus : 
for  he  was  blind  to  his  own  condition.  Regular  in 
his  formal  devotions,  correct  in  his  conduct, — always 
sitting  down  to  his  meals  with  washen  hands,  and 
thanking  God  that  he  was  not  as  other  men,  "  extor- 
tioners, unjust,  or  even  as  this  publican,"  to  him  a 
revelation  of  mercy  was  as  superfluous  and  irrelevant 
as  a  pardon  would  seem  useless  to  a  favourite  basking 
in  the  smiles  of  his  sovereign.  Not  being  "  poor," 
the  gospel  was  preached  to  him  in  vain ;  and  when 
the  great  Teacher  expanded  His  arms,  and  said, 
"  Come  to  me  all  ye  that  are  heavy  laden  :  take  my 
yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me" — it  never  occurred 
to  him  to  step  forward  and  say,  "Yes,  blessed 
Teacher  !  lay  that  yoke  on  me.  Thou  only  knowest 
the  Father  :  reveal  Him  to  me.     Kid  me  of  my  heavy 


THE  KANQUET  HALL.  243 

load,  and  make  me  Thy  disciple  : "  for  to  Simon  sin 
was  no  sensible  burden,  and  there  was  little  which 
any  teacher  could  tell  which  he  did  not  think  that 
he  knew  already ;  and  for  the  lowly,  loving,  son-like 
piety  of  Jesus,  Simon's  proud  and  self-sufficient  spirit 
had  no  affinity. 

So,  dear  reader,  is  there  in  your  own  mind  none  of 
this  arrogant  self-complacency?  Looking  at  the 
sinful  multitude,  are  you  not  apt  to  say,  "  God,  I 
thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  other  men?"  And  are 
you  not  apt  to  patronise  the  Saviour?  You  give 
Him  a  civil  invitation  to  come  under  your  roof.  You 
have  prayers  with  the  family.  You  say  grace  before 
meat.  You  go  as  far  as  you  can  go  genteelly.  And  yet 
were  the  Saviour  accepting  your  somewhat  stiff  re- 
quest :  were  He  coming  under  your  roof  in  answer  to 
your  prayer,  might  it  not  be  said  that  He  had  gone 
into  the  house  of  a  second  Simon  ?  Just  look  at  this 
banquet  board.  See  what  a  contrast !  Jesus  and  a 
Pharisee !  "  On  the  one  side  the  living  spirit :  on 
the  other  the  letter  that  killcth.  On  the  one  side 
simplicity  and  godly  sincerity  :  on  the  other  outward 
appearance.  On  the  one  side  the  self-forgetfulness 
which  seeks  God's  glory  :  on  the  other  the  pride  which 
seeks  its  own  honour.  On  the  one  side  the  tender 
compassion  which  saves  the  lost :  on  the  other  the 
unaympathising  selfishness  which  despises  them."* 
•  "  Het  Evangelie,"  by  Doede*. 


244  INTERVIEWS. 

But,  as  was  already  hinted,  in  the  crowd  which  had 
been  listening  to  Jesus  in  the  open  air,  there  appears 
to  have  been  another  individual  note-worthy.  She 
was  a  poor  outcast,  and  as  she  stood  hidden  in  the 
throng,  she  felt  herself  the  vilest  there.  Her  sins 
were  crimson,  and  in  comparison  with  herself  she 
envied  as  a  holy  man  the  hardest  worldling  in  all  the 
company.  But  as  she  looked  on  the  Divine  Speaker, 
and  listened  to  His  heavenly  words,  there  began  to 
spring  up  strange  sensations  in  her  soul.  It  seemed 
as  if  there  were  passing  over  her  spirit  a  fresh,  pure 
gale  from  the  days  of  her  childhood,  and  as  if  she 
were  inhaling  the  bliss  of  innocence  again  :  and  just 
as  her  past  life  grew  loathsome, — just  as  in  the  contact 
of  a  goodness  so  new  and  so  inspiring,  she  almost  felt 
as  if  sin  could  never  be  pleasant  any  more, — those 
kind  and  cheering  words  of  Jesus  fell  upon  her  ear, — 
"  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  are  heavy  laden," — and 
they  nearly  broke  her  heart.  Was  it  so  indeed? 
Might  she  really  hope  for  mercy  ?  Was  that  the  Son 
of  God  declaring  the  Father's  mind  concerning 
sinners  ? — and  was  He  really  so  "  meek  and  lowly" 
as  to  say  to  such  as  her,  "  Take  my  yoke  upon  you?" 
Oh !  if  she  might  only  hope  it : — if  that  sinless  One 
would  only  teach  her  how  to  be  rid  of  sin  : — if  He 
would  only  help  her  to  throw  off  that  heavy  load, 
a  long  memory  of  crime, — her  own  debased  and 
ruined  self !     Surely  He  was  kind  enough  to  do  it,— 


THE  BANQUET  HALL.  245 

and  the  Father's  mighty  Son  was  able.  But  with 
these  charming  words  the  address  was  ended  ;  the 
congregation  dispersed ;  and  along  with  a  few  others 
the  Divine  Speaker  entered  the  house  of  Simon. 
Wistfully  did  the  poor  outcast  look  after  them  :  for 
in  that  Holy  One  were  centered  all  her  hopes  :  from 
Himself,  if  from  any  in  the  universe,  must  come  her 
salvation.  But  at  that  moment  she  might  not  follow 
Him.  Yes, — He  had  spoken  kindly  to  sinners  in 
the  mass ;  and  she  believed  He  would  speak  as  kindly 
to  the  chief  of  sinners  if  she  appeared  alone  :  but  she 
would  like  to  hear  it  from  His  own  lips — at  least  she 
would  like  to  listen  to  that  wonder-working  voice  again. 
So  she  hasted  away,  and  got  the  most  precious  thing 
she  possessed, — a  box  of  costly  essence, — and  avail- 
ing herself  of  that  right  of  free  entrance  which  still 
prevails  in  these  regions,  she  found  her  way  into 
Simon's  banquet-hall.  Stealing  up  to  the  spot  where 
the  Saviour  reclined,  she  stood  behind  the  guests,  and 
the  couch  on  which  Jesus  lay.  The  exact  thought 
that  arose  in  her  mind,  we  cannot  tell ;  but  likely 
it  was  just  the  contrast  between  them : — '  Here  am 
I  so  vile — and  Thou  so  holy.  All  pollution  I,  and 
Thou  all  sanctity.  A  hell-brand  I,  enkindled  from 
the  infernal  fire  and  destroying  all  I  touch  :  pure 
goodness  Thou,  Heaven's  kindness  all  incarnate, 
eaving  all  who  come  to  Thee.'  And  as  she  gazed  on 
those  blessed  feet  which  went  about  continually  doing 


246  INTERVIEWS. 

good,  and  perceived  them  still  dusty  with  the  travel 
of  the  day,  a  tear  fell,  and,  as  with  the  tresses  of  her  hair 
she  brushed  it  off,  it  was  her  impulse  to  open  the 
alabaster  box  and  suffuse  those  sacred  feet  with  the 
aromatic  oil  which  she  durst  not  pour  upon  His  head. 
Indignant  and  disgusted,  Simon  observed  it  all,  and 
thought  with  himself,  This  man  is  no  prophet.  He 
little  knows  what  an  infamous  creature  that  woman 
is.  But  Jesus  said,  "  Simon,  I  have  somewhat  to 
say  unto  thee."  "  Master,  say  on."  "  There  was  a 
certain  creditor  who  had  two  debtors.  The  one  owed 
five  hundred  pence,  the  other  fifty.  But  both  were 
bankrupt.  They  had  nothing  to  pay,  and  so  he 
frankly  forgave  them  both.  Tell  me  which  will  be 
most  grateful." — That  is,  We  shall  suppose  that  this 
woman  is  a  sinner  tenfold  worse  than  you — ten  times 
deeper  in  God's  debt.  But  you  have  nothing  any 
more  than  she.  In  that  respect  you  are  alike. 
Neither  has  any  effects — any  goodness — any  merit — 
aught  to  meet  the  claims  of  law  and  justice  :  Sup- 
pose I  were  frankly  forgiving  both  :  who  is  likely  to 
feel  the  deepest  obligation  ? — And  Simon  answered, 
11  I  suppose  the  one  who  has  the  largest  amount  for- 
given." And  Jesus  answered,  "  Thou  hast  rightly 
judged.  Seest  thou  this  woman  ?  I  entered  into 
thine  house.  Thou  gavest  me  no  water  for  my  feet ; 
but  she  hath  washed  them  with  tears,  and  wiped  them 
with  the  hairs  of  her  head.     Thou  gavest  me  no  kiss ; 


THE  BANQUET  HALL.  247 

but  this  woman  since  the  time  I  came  in  hath  not 
ceased  to  kiss  my  feet.  My  head  thou  didst  not 
anoint  with  oil ;  but  this  woman  hath  anointed  my 
feet  with  ointment.  Wherefore  I  say  unto  thee,  Her 
sins  which  are  many  are  forgiven  :  for  she  loved 
much  :  but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  the  same  loveth 
little."  As  much  as  if  He  had  said,  Were  one  for- 
given who  thinks  himself  so  little  of  a  sinner  as  you 
think  yourself,  he  would  feel  little  thankfulness :  but 
God  is  glorified  in  the  forgiveness  of  a  sinner  like 
this, — for  great  is  her  gratitude.  And  thoroughly  to 
assure  her  agitated  spirit,  He  added,  "  Thy  sins 
are  forgiven," — and  when  they  raised  the  question, 
"  Who  is  this  that  even  forgiveth  sins  ?  "  with  kingly 
majesty  He  ignored  their  cavil,  and  only  repeated, 
"  Thy  faith  hath  saved  thee  :  go  in  peace." 

Yes,  Simon  was  confounded  at  this  woman's  pre- 
sumption. His  own  impulse  would  have  been  to 
hurl  her  out  of  doors,  and  he  could  not  comprehend 
why  his  guest  allowed  her  to  come  near  Him.  u  If 
this  man  were  a  prophet,  He  would  have  known  who 
and  what  manner  of  woman  this  is  that  toucheth 
Jlim:  for  she  is  a  sinner."  But  Jesus  knew.  He 
r  her  case,  and  He  understood  her  feeling.  He 
knew  that  this  was  a  pardoned  sinner,  who  would 
sin  no  more.  He  knew  that  this  was  His  own  beati- 
tude. "  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they  shall 
be  comforted."     He  knew  that  in  all  that  apartment 


248  INTERVIEWS. 

there  was  not  one  to  whom  sin  looked  so  horrible : 
nor  one  with  a  conscience  so  tender  as  that  poor,  sob- 
bing outcast.  He  knew  that  it  was  a  relief  for  her 
to  weep:  that  she  would  fain  pour  forth  her  very 
soul  in  this  burst  of  delicious  sorrow :  and  it  was 
good  for  her  to  weep.  A  joy  mingled  with  these 
tears ;  and  that  blessed  Spirit  who  had  opened  their 
fountain  was  meanwhile  filling  her  soul  with  His 
own  transfusive  sanctity  and  with  aspirations  after 
new  obedience.  And  where  Simon  saw  only  the 
"sinner,"  Jesus  saw  the  pardoned  penitent;  and  far 
from  finding  contamination  in  her  presence  or  pollu- 
tion in  her  touch,  this  brand  plucked  from  the  burn- 
ing was  to  Him  the  dearest  of  trophies.  To  the 
Saviour  no  music  could  be  sweeter  than  those  sobs 
of  heartfelt  contrition,  no  balm  from  the  broken  ala- 
baster so  welcome  as  this  penitent's  tears. 

From  this  incident  we  see  what  it  is  which  pro- 
duces true  repentance.  If  you  were  going  out  into  the 
open  air  on  a  frosty  day,  and  were  you  taking  a  lump 
of  ice,  you  might  pound  it  with  a  pestle,  but  it  would 
still  continue  ice.  You  might  break  it  into  ten 
thousand  atoms,  but,  so  long  as  you  continue  in  that 
wintry  atmosphere,  every  fragment,  however  small, 
will  still  be  frozen.  But  come  within.  Bring  in  the 
ice  beside  your  own  bright  and  blazing  fire,  and  soon 
in  that  genial  glow  "  the  waters  flow."  A  man  may 
try  to  make  himself  contrite.     He  may  search  out  his 


THE  BANQUET  HALL.  249 

Bins  and  set  them  before  him,  and  dwell  on  all  their 
enormity,  and  still  feel  no  true  repentance.  Though 
pounded  with  penances  in  the  mortar  of  fasts  and 
macerations,  his  heart  continues  hard  and  icy  still. 
And  as  long  as  you  keep  in  that  legal  atmosphere  it 
cannot  thaw.  There  may  be  elaborate  confession, 
a  got-up  sort  of  penitence,  a  voluntary  humility,  but 
there  is  no  godly  sorrow.  But  come  to  Jesus  with 
His  words  of  grace  and  truth.  From  the  cold  winter 
night  of  the  ascetic  come  into  the  summer  of  the 
Great  Evangelist.  Let  that  flinty  frozen  spirit  bask 
a  little  in  the  beams  of  the  Sun  of  Kighteousness. 
Listen  for  a  little  to  those  words  which  melted  this 
sinner  into  a  penitent — which  broke  her  alabaster 
box  and  brimmed  over  in  tears  of  ecstatic  sorrow  and 
self-condemning  devotion  :  for,  finding  that  you  too 
have  much  forgiven,  you  also  will  love  much.  The 
soul  which  only  grew  more  estranged  from  God  in 
the  effort  to  conquer  its  own  enmity  will  become  a 
joyful  captive  in  the  arms  of  Fatherly  forgiveness ; 
and  taking  up  the  easy  yoke  of  that  Kedeemer  who 
has  taken  off  your  heavy  burden,  you  will  find  rest 
for  your  soul  in  the  service  of  that  Saviour  who  freely 
and  fully  pardons  all  your  sins. 


%  granj.Pstt  %  foent  afoajr  jtafofol. 

Man,  the  child  of  God,  was  happy  once,  and  he  was 
happy  because  God  was  in  His  proper  place;  the 
Father  was  in  the  heart  of  His  child.  There  could 
be  no  doubt  about  it;  the  living  God  was  man's 
dearest  friend  and  chiefest  joy,  and  his  blessedness 
was  great,  for  the  source  whence  it  came  was  ex- 
haustless.  He  who  is  the  Treasure  of  Heaven — the 
King  of  its  angels — the  wealth  of  all  worlds,  was  the 
Father  of  man. 

So  truly  was  this  the  case,  that  earthly  sonship 
was  only  an  image  of  the  closer  relation  which  bound 
man  to  his  truest  and  most  peculiar  Parent.  Had 
innocence  lasted  long  enough,  a  sinless  Cain  or  Abel 
might  in  process  of  time  have  outgrown  the  dependent 
and  up-looking  feelings  which  bound  him  to  his 
earthly  sire;  and  remoteness  of  scene  might  have 
interrupted  the  intercourse.  But  no  change  of  place 
could  have  created  distance  from  God,  or  suspended 
the  communion  with  heaven ;  and  advancing  years 
would  only  have  made  him  feel  more  profoundly  the 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.     251 

tender  and  numberless  ties  which  bound  him  to  the 
Father  of  his  spirit — his  celestial  Sire — his  Parent 
proper  and  supreme. 

God  was  man's  Father,  and  the  heavenly  Father 
communed  with  His  earthly  child.  He  not  only  gave 
him  food,  which  built  up  his  body,  but  He  gave  him 
thoughts,  feelings,  affections  which  nourished  his  im- 
mortal nature — sights  to  look  at,  things  to  think  of, 
which  kept  up  the  eternal  life  in  his  mind.  And  how 
did  that  life  evolve  ?  how  was  God's  life  in  man's  soul 
expressed  and  exhibited  ?  For  one  thing  in  worship. 
He  could  never  say  sufficiently  how  grateful  he 
was,  nor  how  beautiful,  how  kind,  how  adorable  his 
heavenly  Father  appeared.  And,  for  another  thing, 
that  Divine  life  developed  in  beneficence.  The  con- 
scious love  of  Infinite  Goodness  made  him  exceeding 
glad,  and  gladness  coming  from  such  a  source  made 
him  gracious,  communicative,  kindly  affectioned. 
Brimming  over  with  blessedness,  he  was  the  fellow- 
worker  with  God  ;  and,  although  it  had  only  been  to 
fetch  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  a  companion,  or  restore  to 
the  nest  some  callow  fledgling  that  had  fallen  over, 
the  smile  of  complacent  Deity  in  the  soul  must  have 
found  an  outlet  in  some  deed  of  tender  mercy ;  and, 
although  it  had  only  been  in  training  a  rose  or  group- 
ing the  flowers  of  a  border,  to  carry  forward  the 
Father's  plan,  and  finish  the  Father's  work,  was  the 
meat  and  drink  of  Paradise. 


252  INTERVIEWS. 

A  blessed  state  which  was  quickly  ended.  Man 
sinned.  God  forsook  His  place  in  the  heart  of  His  guilty 
and  fallen  child ;  and,  alas !  as  He  retired  the  heart 
closed  its  doors  against  Him.  It  was  still  a  heart — 
still  a  great,  greedy,  affectionate  craving  thing,  which 
needs  for  its  satisfaction  an  infinite  and  all- worthy 
object.  But  the  one  object  was  gone;  and  ever  since 
man  lost  his  "treasure  in  heaven" — ever  since  he 
lost  that  G  od  who  is  the  gold  of  angels  and  who  was 
the  riches  of  Paradise  * — his  great  effort  has  been  to 
find  a  substitute.  Instead  of  opening  the  heart's 
door  and  readmitting  the  original  and  rightful  occu- 
pant, he  fills  the  space  as  best  he  can  with  idols.  Of 
these  the  favourite  and  most  frequent  is  the  world  or 
mammon.  In  that  shrine  which  once  flamed  and 
glowed  with  indwelling  Deity,  and  where  the  love  of 
God  sustained  perpetual  summer,  there  now  burns, 
to  make  the  darkness  visible,  a  little  night-light  of 
earthly  friendship  or  creature-fondness;  and  on  that 
throne,  where  once  presided  the  great  I  Am,  now  sits, 
in  mockery  at  once  of  the  living  God  and  of  the 
fatuous  worshipper,  a  golden  pagod,  or  mayhap  some 
foul  desire  or  sinful  passion — a  something  which 
holds  in  its  hand  the  strings  that  move  the  man: 

*  "  Have  money-worshippers  really  considered  it,  that  the  living  God 
is  not  dead  metal,  and  yet  that  He  is,  strictly  speaking,  the  only  human 
gold?  Rich  men  are  the  men  who  carry  God  in  their  souls,  and  these 
are  the  only  men  who  have  the  true  human  gold  to  give.  The  receiver 
of  this  gold  receives  an  unmingled  blessing ;  and  the  giver  becomes 
richer  by  giving." — Pulsford's  "  Quiet  Hours,"  p.  31, 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.    253 

whilst  after  all,  his  noblest  faculties,  like  so  much 
obsolete  lumber,  lie  unnoticed  and  unused,  and  crum- 
bling to  decay. 

The  Lord  Jesus  understood,  even  as  He  pitied,  the 
case  of  lapsed  humanity.  His  errand  was  to  restore 
man's  blessedness  by  restoring  God's  supremacy.  He 
came  to  set  up  anew  God's  kingdom  in  the  soul  of 
man.  On  the  one  side,  as  the  great  Priest- Victim 
He  expiated  the  sacrilege  of  which  man  had  been 
guilty  in  profaning  God's  temple,  and  in  placing 
obscene  usurpers  on  Jehovah's  throne ;  and  His  own 
most  precious  blood  He  puts  at  the  disposal  of  every 
penitent  who  seeks  to  cleanse  his  heart  from  idols. 
On  the  other  hand,  as  God's  Prophet  and  man's  King, 
He  seeks  to  make  the  sinner  desirous  of  God's  return 
to  the  forsaken  shrine.  He  seeks  to  make  the  sinner 
feel  how  guilty  he  was  when  he  said  to  the  living 
God,  (  Depart,'  and  He  seeks  to  make  the  sinner 
feel  how  truly  poor  and  wretched  he  is  with  coin  in 
hi?  chest  but  no  God  in  his  heart;  with  loving 
but  dying  children  around  him  who  call  him 
father,  whilst  the  Immortal  Father  owns  him  as  no 
child.  Perhaps  even  now  that  great  Apostle  of  our 
profession  speaks  to  some  one ;  for  Christ's  mission 
did  not  end  at  Olivet — the  voice  which  spake  on 
earth  still  speaks  from  heaven.  Perhaps  even  now 
the  Lord  Jesus  has  knocked  at  your  heart-door,  and 
the  hollow  sound  that  echoes  bark  tells  him  and  you, 


254  INTERVIEWS. 

that  it  is  vacant  or  filled  with  ostentatious  emptiness. 
Your  chief  end  is  to  glorify  self  and  enjoy  the  present 
world  for  ever ;  or  at  the  very  best,  your  chief  end 
is  to  glorify  and  gladden  that  expanded  self,  your 
nearest  friends  and  dearest  kindred ;  and  it  misgives 
you  that,  beautiful  as  the  idol  is,  it  is  not  the  living 
God,  and  that  you  would  need  to  get  something  more 
before  you  can  be  sure  of  "  treasure  in  heaven." 

The  evangelists  tell  us  that  on  one  of  His  journeys 
the  Lord  Jesus  was  met  by  a  young  ruler,  who  came 
to  Him  running,  in  his  anxiety  to  ask  Him  a  question. 
He  was  a  young  man  of  excellent  character  and 
engaging  manners — so  prepossessing  that,  as  the 
interview  proceeded,  Mark  says,  "  Jesus  loved  him." 
His  first  exclamation  was,  "  Good  Master,  what  shall 
I  do  that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life  ?  "  Reminding  him 
that  "none  is  truly  good  butGod," — Jesus  answered  by 
repeating  the  second  table  of  the  law.  Half-pleased, 
half-mortified,  glad  to  think  that  he  had  fulfilled  this 
requirement  already,  but  sorry  that  the  great  Teacher 
had  no  more  specific  prescription,  he  replied,  "  All 
these  have  I  observed  from  my  youth."  By  no  means 
surprised  at  the  answer — knowing  it  to  be  sincere 
though  sadly  erroneous — the  Lord  Jesus  made  the  pre- 
scription more  specific,  and  put  the  test  another  way. 
That  second  table  may  be  summed  up  in  one  sentence, 
"'Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself."  Ac- 
cordingly Jesus   said,  u  Sell  whatsoever  thou  hast, 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.    255 

and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in 
heaven;  and  come,  take  up  thy  cross,  and  follow  me." 
This  rejoinder  instantly  rent  open  the  refuge  of  lies, 
and  disclosed  to  the  youth  his  reigning  worldly- 
mindedness.  After  all  he  did  not  love  his  neighbour 
as  himself.  After  all  he  was  not  so  desirous  of 
heavenly  treasure  that,  in  order  to  gain  it,  he  could 
part  with  a  few  acres  of  land.  After  all  he  was  not 
so  alive  to  God,  nor  so  intent  on  His  favour  as  to 
descry  in  the  "  good  Master  "  any  divine  lineaments, 
or  even  to  care  to  follow  farther  One  whom  to  know 
is  everlasting  life.  "  He  went  away  sorrowful,  for 
he  had  great  possessions." 

There  were  interesting  features  in  this  young  man's 
character,  and  for  these  the  Lord  Jesus  lovedhim.  Some 
who  are  of  a  sterner  mould  would  not  have  felt  so  kindly. 
They  would  have  scowled  on  all  the  amenities  and 
attractions  of  this  youth  as  mere  natural  goodness,  mere 
carnal  virtue,  dead  morality.  But  such  as  they  were 
they  possessed  a  certain  charm  in  the  eyes  of  Jesus 
Christ.  He  saw  in  them  the  hand  of  God.  Even 
in  these  outward  accomplishments  and  in  this 
general  correctness  of  conduct  He  recognised  restrain- 
ing grace.  And  in  the  mind  of  the  Saviour,  at  the 
sight  of  this  youth,  so  ingenuous,  so  sincere,  and  so 
outwardly  correct,  although  still  outside  of  the  kinc:- 
dcm,  there  was  awakened  a  sentiment  very  different 
rrom  that  which  Ho  felt  towards  false  and  cunning 


256  INTERVIEWS. 

Pharisees,  profane  and  jeering  Sadducees,  and  such 
open  reprobates  and  ruffians  as  He  sometimes 
encountered  in  Nazareth  and  Samaria.  But  with  all 
these  feelings  of  interest  and  affection,  the  Lord  Jesus 
did  not  speak  to  him  premature  peace  or  dangerous 
comfort.  He  saw  that  this  young  inquirer  was  still 
in  the  bond  of  iniquity  ;  He  saw  that  he  had  yet  to 
discover  the  plague  of  his  own  heart ;  He  saw  that 
he  was  one  of  those  who  fancy  that  they  are  whole 
and  need  not  a  physician ;  and  He  knew  that 
any  answer  which  did  not  reveal  to  him  his  true 
character,  would  be  to  deceive  his  soul  and  speed  him 
on  to  perdition  with  a  lie  in  his  right  hand.  And 
with  that  holy  fidelity  which  triumphs  over  natural 
feeling,  Jesus  gave  the  unwelcome  reply  ;  the  answer 
which  sent  away  dejected  and  gloomy  one  who  had 
run  up  to  Him  radiant  with  hope  and  eager  to  exhibit 
his  reverential  regard  :  teaching  us  that  our  love  to 
our  friends  should  never  make  us  flatter  their  mistakes, 
nor  deal  falsely  by  their  immortal  interests. 
Let  us  look  for  a  little — 

1.  At  those  features  in  this  young  ruler's  character 
which,  as  the  Son  of  man,  the  Lord  Jesus  loved. 

2.  Those  defects  in  this  young  man's  character 
which,  as  the  Son  of  God,  the  Lord  Jesus  detected 
and  disclosed. 

I.  1.  He  was  sound  in  his  creed.  At  that  period 
the  fashionable  religion  in  Palestine  was  a  sort  of 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.    257 

Materialism.  Owing  to  their  intercourse  with  Gentile 
nations,  and  partly  a  reaction  from  the  hollow  trtiisms 
and  puerile  inanities  of  the  rabbies,  a  Hellenistic 
rage  was  at  this  time  overspreading  the  refined  circles 
in  the  Holy  Land,  and  much  useless  trouble  was  taken 
to  deck  the  truths  of  Kevelation  in  the  new  costume. 
The  consequence  was,  that  many  became  ashamed 
of  their  old  Hebrew  book.  The  Bible  was  not  suffi- 
ciently classical ;  and  in  certain  coteries  people  began 
to  talk  about  myths  and  Mosaic  fables,  and  doubted 
if  there  were  such  a  thing  as  an  angel,  or  a  soul  dis- 
tinct from  the  material  frame,  or  any  resurrection  of 
the  body.  And  amongst  the  young  and  the  rich  and 
the  thoughtless,  these  opinions  had  amazing  currency. 
They  were  new,  and  this  recommended  them  to  bold 
and  dashing  spirits.  They  put  God  and  a  future 
judgment  out  of  the  way,  and  that  endeared  them  to 
the  voluptuous  and  vicious,— to  the  jovial  spirits, 
who  shouted,  "  Let  us  crown  ourselves  with  rose- 
buds and  drench  our  garlands  in  wine  ;  let  us  eat  and 
drink,  and  be  merry :  for  to-morrow  we  die  and  all 
is  done."  And  they  had  a  show  of  wisdom.  Leav- 
ing out  of  sight  the  sacred  books,  these  Gentile  writers 
were  incomparably  more  clever,  more  profound,  and 
more  brilliant,  than  any  who  took  the  side  of  the 
ancient  faith  :  and,  as  if  to  provoke  every  powerful 
nmlerstanding  and  every  cultivated  mind  into  this 
iucean  free-thinking,  the  theologians  and  religious 


258  INTERVIEWS. 

teachers  of  the  day  rushed  into  the  opposite  extreme: 
and.  to  avoid  the  suspicion  of  Gentilism,  dullness 
became  the  badge  of  orthodoxy  and  triteness  the  test 
of  truth. 

Now,  from  the  first  exclamation  of  this  young  man, 
any  spectator  might  have  gathered  that  he  had  not 
left  the  faith  of  his  fathers:  "  What  shall  I  do  that  I 
may  inherit  eternal  life?"  Contrary  to  the  prevail- 
ing scepticism,  he  believed  in  the  soul's  immortality, 
and  was  anxious  about  his  own  destiny  in  the  world 
to  come.  And  that  single  utterance  was  a  powerful 
prepossession  in  his  favour.  Knowing  all  the  tempta- 
tions to  which  he  was  exposed ;  knowing  how  often 
he  must  have  run  the  gauntlet  of  derision  and  con- 
tempt ;  knowing  how  frequently  he  must  have  been 
bantered  by  his  friends  for  his  antiquated  notions,  and 
how  many  hints  he  must  have  had  as  to  their  mental 
weakness  or  moral  cowardice  who  still  frequented 
synagogues  and  said  their  prayers ;  knowing  how  at 
the  tables  of  the  gay  and  the  genteel  he  must  have 
been  many  times  rallied  for  following  the  faith  of  some 
mother  Eunice,  or  some  "grandmother"  Lois;  know- 
ing all  the  temptations  to  infidelity  which  encom- 
passed a  young  man  of  his  distinction,  and  hearing 
from  his  lips  this  confession  of  his  faith,  Jesus  loved 
him  for  his  orthodoxy. 

And  our  youthful  reader  is  to  be  congratulated 
if,  like  this  ruler,  he  believes  the  Bible.     Our  times 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.     259 

are  not  wholly  dissimilar.  The  world  just  now  is 
full  of  vigorous  thinkers ;  but  few  of  these  are  firm 
believers.  The  press  is  teeming  with  fresh  and 
wonderful  books;  books  written  in  new  styles,  and 
either  exhibiting  new  truths  or  drawing  new  and 
startling  conclusions  from  familiar  facts.  And  every 
man  is  sanguine  as  to  the  powers  of  his  prescription 
— the  success  of  his  panacea  :  he  is  sure  that  his  pro- 
posal is  to  carry  the  world's  convictions  and  new- 
create  society.  But  whilst  the  literature  of  the  day 
is  lifesome  and  bold  and  leonine ;  whilst,  full  of 
energy  and  self-reliance,  it  practises  and  prospers, — 
religion  is  too  often  tame  and  timid.  It  is  not 
always  that  the  pious  books  of  the  present  day  have 
the  freshness  and  power  of  its  secular  publications. 
They  look  as  if  they  only  half  believed  the  Bible ; 
they  are  terrified  to  translate  it ;  they  dare  not  put  new 
words  on  familiar  truths  :  they  are  too  often  trite  and 
commonplace ;  the  echoes  of  an  echo ;  the  shadows 
of  a  shade.  And  in  such  times,  when  genius  is  so 
sceptical  and  faith  so  dull,  there  are  strong  tempta- 
tions to  a  young  and  vigorous  understanding  to  fall 
in  with  popular  forms  of  unbelief.  Few  are  so  earnest 
that  tlioy  will  read  a  good  book  for  the  sake  of  its 
goodness,  however  tame  the  thought  and  however  flat 
the  style.  And  few  can  read  brilliant  books,  from 
which  religion  is  banished,  or  in  which  it  is  openly 
reviled,  without  carrying  away  the  contagious  damage. 


260  INTERVIEWS. 

Aud;  therefore,  in  such  times,  and  surrounded  by  such 
influences,  we  specially  congratulate  youthful  and 
accomplished  minds,  if  they  have  escaped  the  Saddu- 
cean  pestilence.  If  you  have  learned  to  distinguish 
betwixt  clear  facts  and  clever  fancies ;  if  along  with 
the  sentiment  which  admires  the  gorgeous  colours  of 
the  evening  sky,  you  possess  the  common  sense  which 
to  a  castle  up  among  these  clouds  prefers  a  cottage  on 
the  plain;  if,  amidst  the  ever-changing  ideal  you 
keep  a  steady  grasp  of  the  unchanging  historical; 
if,  when  the  fashionable  philosophy  is  springing  up 
like  the  grass  in  summer,  or  picturesque  theories  are 
blossoming  like  the  flowers  of  the  season, — if  you 
still  remember,  "  The  grass  withereth  and  the  flower 
fadeth  ;  but  the  Word  of  the  Lord  endureth  for  ever," 
we  congratulate  you  on  the  wisdom  of  your  conclusion 
and  the  security  of  your  position.  And  still  more 
would  we  wish  you  joy,  if  these  convictions  are  so 
strong  that  you  do  not  scruple  to  declare  them ;  if, 
amidst  thoughtless  companions  or  open  scoffers,  you 
do  not  disguise  nor  disavow  your  persuasion  ;  if  the 
scorner's  laugh  do  not  deter  you  from  the  sanctuary, 
nor  make  you  ashamed  of  pious  parents  and  a  praying 
home ;  if  you  have  never  felt  it  brave  to  be  a  blas- 
phemer, nor  dastardly  to  fear  the  Lord.  Such  con- 
victions and  such  conquests  over  unbelief  are  the  gift  of 
God;  blessings  for  which,  so  far  as  they  go,  you 
should  be  very  grateful,  and  beauties  of  character 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.    261 

such  as.  embodied  in  this  young  ruler,  the  Saviour 
loved. 

2.  But  more  than  this,  he  was  a  moral  man. 
Jesus  repeated  to  him  the  commandments,  "  Do  not 
commit  adultery,  do  not  kill,  do  not  steal,  do  not  bear 
false  witness,"  &c,  and  he  could  answer,  "  All  these 
have  I  kept  from  my  infancy  up."  Doubtless,  that 
answer  showed  that  he  had  still  to  learn  the  purity 
and  heart-pervasiveness  of  God's  law  ;  but  it  showed 
how  much  decorum  and  decency  had  marked  his  out- 
ward conduct.  His  conscience  did  not  reproach  him 
with  any  great  and  outstanding  transgression ;  he 
had  never  embezzled  money  intrusted  to  his  keeping; 
he  had  never  enriched  himself  by  defrauding  others; 
he  had  never,  to  his  knowledge,  told  a  lie ;  he  had 
never  slandered  nor  falsely  accused  a  companion;  and 
there  was  no  dark  day  in  his  history  to  which  reluc- 
tant memory  was  ever  and  anon  reverting,  —  no 
gloomy  day,  in  which  some  guilty  secret  lay  en- 
tombed, and  from  which  he  dreaded  it  might  spring 
in  sudden  and  ghastly  resurrection.  But  over  his 
general  and  world-ward  conduct  his  eye  could  glide 
with  prevailing  satisfaction  ;  and  so  far  as  society 
went,  he  moved  about  a  fearless  and  unembarrassed 
man,  grasping  every  proffered  hand  sincerely,  looking 
trustfully  into  every  cordial  countenance,  with  no 
dread  of  stumbling  into  pits  which  himself  had  dig- 
ged, or  startling  the  ghosts  of  buried  crimes ;  regard- 


262  INTERVIEWS. 

ing  the  Cities  of  Refuge  as  humane  asylums  for  his 
less  fortunate  fellows,  and  the  trespass-offerings  as  a 
gracious  provision  for  the  sinful  multitude  ;  nor  per- 
haps altogether  without  a  mixture  of  that  self-com- 
placency which  says,  "  God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am 
not  as  other  men  are,  extortioners,  unjust,  adulterers, 
or  even  as  this  publican." 

Reader,  can  you  say  as  much?  Have  you  this 
young  man's  outward  morality  and  freedom  from 
common  sins  ?  Or  are  you  one  of  those,  who,  hop- 
ing to  "  do  "  some  good  thing,  so  as  to  inherit  eternal 
life,  "  fall  short  of  one,  who,  after  all,  fell  short  of 
heaven?" 

3.  But  the  young  ruler  was  more  than  correct. 
There  was  something  very  captivating  in  his  charac- 
ter. Some  persons  are  blameless,  but  they  have 
about  them  nothing  beautiful.  You  cannot  point 
out  their  faults,  but  you  are  conscious  of  no  fascina- 
tion in  them.  But  with  this  young  man  it  was 
entirely  different;  and  with  that  suggestive  profu- 
sion which  marks  the  pencil  of  these  evangelist-artists, 
we  can  detect  even  in  this  rapid  sketch  much  that  is 
graceful  and  gainly.  You  see  him  frank,  courageous, 
and  unaffected.  Jesus  is  passing  on  his  way,  and, 
fearful  of  missing  his  opportunity,  and  absorbed  by 
his  own  earnestness,  he  thinks  nothing  of  posting 
along  the  road  and  running  quickly  up,  forgetful  of 
the  solemn  gait  which  befits  exalted  station.     And 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SOKKOWFUL.     263 

with  the  same  inadvertency  to  appearances, — with 
the  same  free  and  manly  expression  of  his  respectful 
and  reverential  feelings,  you  see  him  kneeling  down 
as  he  accosts  the  Saviour;  and  you  cannot  fail  to 
notice  the  cordiality  as  well  as  courtesy  of  his  ad- 
dress,—  his  confidence  in  Christ's  wisdom  and  bene- 
volence as  he  hails  Him,  "  Kind  Teacher,  Good 
Master."  And  the  whole  interview  leaves  on  your 
mind  an  impression  of  urbanity,  politeness,  just  sen- 
timent, and  natural  feeling,  open-hearted  gentleness, 
and  engaging  suavity  :  all  confirmed  when  we  read 
that  Jesus,  when  He  looked  on  him,  loved  him. 

And  so  may  there  be  those  amongst  us,  who  are 
extremely  amiable,  but  yet  who  lack  the  one  thing. 
You  are  mild  in  your  temper,  and  gentle  in  your 
movements.  You  like  to  do  obliging  things,  and 
make  those  around  you  happy.  And  people  love  you. 
They  cannot  help  admiring  your  faultless  conduct, 
and  feeling  grateful  for  your  kind  attentions.  And 
everything  you  do  is  dutiful ;  you  are  so  correct 
and  obedient,  so  diligent  and  self-denying,  and 
so  exemplary,  that  even  pious  friends  might  be 
Beady  to  ask.  What  does  he  lack?  But  were  you 
kneeling  before  the  heart-searching  Saviour,  like  this 
interesting  youth, — are  you  sure  that  He  would  see 
no  lack  ?  Would  He  not  see  a  heart  quite  cold  to 
God  m  about  Him  or  absolutely  hating  Him  ? 

Would  He  not  see  a   heart  quite  filled  with  other 


264  INTERVIEWS. 

things,  and  not  even  a  corner  kept  for  Himself? 
Would  He  not  see  a  heart  set  upon  people's  praise  or 
people's  love,  but  never  caring  for  the  praise  and  the 
love  of  God  ?  As  Boston  says,  "  Many  are  the  devil's 
lions,  filling  the  place  where  they  live  with  the  noise 
of  their  revels  and  riotings ;  but  this  young  man  was 
one  of  the  devil's  lambs,  going  to  hell  without  letting 
the  world  hear  the  sound  of  his  feet." 

4.  He  was  a  religious  inquirer.  He  was  in  earnest 
about  his  soul.  He  had  evidently  been  turning  the 
subject  over  in  his  mind.  He  was  not  entirely  satis- 
fied with  himself.  Notwithstanding  his  morality,  he 
felt  that  there  was  something  awanting.  He  did  not 
feel  as  if  he  were  yet  inheriting  eternal  life.  His 
religion  did  not  satisfy  himself.  And  in  the  hope 
that  the  missing  secret  might  be  revealed,  and  the 
painful  want  supplied,  he  determined  on  consulting 
Jesus.  And  he  carried  his  intention  explicitly  out. 
He  did  not  steal  an  interview,  nor  come,  like  Nico- 
demus,  disguised  and  through  the  dark :  but  on  the 
patent  road  and  in  the  public  day,  in  the  presence  of 
others,  and  most  likely  with  the  knowledge  of  some 
of  his  neighbours,  he  hasted  to  the  feet  of  Jesus,  and 
put  his  momentous  question  openly. 

Have  you  eve,r  inquired  ?  Have  you  ever  taken 
a  thought  about  your  soul  and  its  everlasting  salva- 
tion ?  Have  you  ever  said  to  yourself,  '  Well,  it  is 
a  very  serious  matter  this,  to  have  a  soul  which  must 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.     265 

Boon  be  in  heaven  or  hell  for  ever.  True,  I  am  young, 
and  summer  days  are  bright,  and  I  am  fond  of  pas- 
time, and  I  have  some  important  work  on  hand.  But 
my  soul?  How  can  I  find  balm  in  the  breath  of 
June — how  can  I  find  cheerfulness  in  my  work  or 
pleasure  in  my  play,  so  long  as  my  soul  is  perishing  ? 
And,  let  me  see,  my  Bible  says,  "  Except  ye  be  con- 
verted— except  ye  be  born  again,  ye  cannot  enter  the 
kingdom  of  heaven."  But  I  doubt  if  I  am  converted. 
I  am  sure  that  I  am  not  bom  again.  How  am  I  to 
come  at  it  ?  How  shall  I  find  salvation  ?  How  shall 
I  ever  get  to  heaven  ?  ' 

We  have  now  seen  what  there  was  interesting  and 
attractive  about  this  young  ruler.  He  was  sound  in 
his  creed.  At  a  time  when  throughout  Palestine 
most  of  the  refined  and  fashionable  people  were  free- 
thinkers and  Sadducees,  he  was  a  believer  in  revela- 
tion, and  firm  in  the  only  faith.  And  he  was  correct 
in  his  conduct.  Free  from  flagrant  crimes,  he  had 
outwardly  fulfilled  the  various  commands,  and  could 
answer  to  each  in  succession,  All  these  have  I  kept. 
And  there  was  in  his  character  and  dispositions  much 
that  was  captivating  and  prepossessing.  Frank, 
affable,  and  courteous,  it  was  fine  to  see  a  ruler  so 
humble,  and  a  young  man  so  thoughtful.  For  this 
gave  additional  charm  to  all  his  other  features, — he 
was  a  religious  inquirer,  and  really  in  earnest  about 
his  soul's  salvation. 


266  INTERVIEWS. 

And  as  there  you  see  the  noble  youth  kneeling  at 
Messiah's  feet,  you  are  ready  to  exclaim,  i  0,  blessed 
Jesus,  deal  gently  with  the  lad !  Deal  gently  with 
him  for  his  own  sake  and  for  Thine !  He  is  young 
and  amiable,  and  the  world  still  smiles  on  him :  do 
not  scare  him  away  with  that  formidable  cross.  Look 
at  him,  and  confess  if  Thou  dost  not  love  him  ?  Is 
he  not  engaging  ?  and  would  he  not  prove  to  Thy- 
self a  companion  more  congenial,  and  an  associate 
more  intelligent  than  these  rude  fishermen  ?  And  is 
he  not  a  ruler?  Would  there  not  be  a  sanction  in 
his  support,  and  an  asylum  in  his  friendship? 
and  would  it  not  annihilate  the  taunt,  Have  any 
of  the  rulers  believed  on  Him?  And  is  he  not 
rich?  With  such  a  disciple  in  Thy  retinue,  Thou 
needst  never  say  again,  u  The  foxes  have  holes,"  for 
every  mansion  in  Jewry  would  be  open  to  Thee 
then?  And  is  he  not  refined?  and  might  not  men 
of  rank — might  not  many  rulers  and  rich  men  be 
brought  to  believe  through  the  influence  of  such  a 
minister?' 

No ;  there  is  only  one  path  to  the  kingdom.  There 
is  not  one  salvation  for  the  rich  and  another  for  the 
poor ;  there  is  not  one  cross  for  the  noble  and  another 
for  the  fisherman.  Nothing  but  a  new  heart  will 
enter  heaven :  and  in  this  affecting  instance  the 
Saviour  has  taught  us  that  whether  encased  in  the 
most  repulsive  depravity,  or  encircled  with  all  the 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.    267 

charms  of  a  well-spent  youth,  a  carnal  mind  cannot 
enter  the  kingdom. 

IT.  In  a  moment,  and  by  His  Divine  intuition,  the 
Lord  Jesus  saw  how  it  stood  with  this  inquirer.  He 
knew  far  better  than  the  man  himself  the  state  of 
his  inmost  soul.  And  though  the  youth  imagined 
that  his  desire  of  salvation  was  supreme,  Jesus  saw 
that  it  was  only  secondary,  and  brought  clearly  out 
these  two  things — 1.  That  he  had  no  right  know- 
ledge of  sin ;  and  2.  No  sufficient  desire  for  the  favour 
and  enjoyment  of  God. 

1.  First  of  all,  the  Saviour  went  over  the  leading 
commands,  and  to  these  the  young  man  unhesitatingly 
answered  that  he  had  kept  them  all.  He  did  not 
mean  to  deceive,  and  Jesus  loved  him  none  the  less 
for  his  honest  but  erroneous  answer.  It  was  true 
according  to  his  own  understanding  of  these  precepts, 
but  that  he  should  understand  them  in  such  a  meagre 
sense  was  a  proof  how  callous  was  his  conscience,  and 
how  defective  his  spiritual  apprehension.  Had  that 
apprehension  been  more  correct,  and  that  conscience 
more  tender,  he  would  have  known  that  the  thought 
of  wickedness  is  sin ;  and  he  would  have  felt  that  the 
imagination  of  his  heart  had  been  only  evil  con- 
tinually; and  that  life  on  which  he  plumed  himself 
as  a  succession  of  virtues  would  have  darkened  into  a 
orics  of  sins.  *  lie  would  have  been  in  the  situa- 
tion which  the  Apostle  Paul  afterwards  so  graphically 


268  INTERVIEWS. 

described  as  his  own.  Like  a  man  in  a  pestilent  season 
who  is  told  that  the  plague-spot  has  appeared  on  his 
countenance,  and  he  feels  so  well  that  he  will  not  believe 
it.  However,  being  told  to  look  into  the  glass,  for  a 
moment  he  glances  into  a  dim  mirror,  or  a  mirror  in  a 
dusky  chamber,  and  protests  that  he  can  see  nothing 
wrong.  But  his  informant  comes  in,  and  pulls  open  a 
shutter,  and  lets  in  a  clearer  light,  or  brushes  the  dust 
from  the  face  of  the  mirror ;  and  lo !  large  and  livid  on 
his  darkening  brow  the  sentence  of  approaching  death. 
Saul,  the  moralist,  once  would  not  believe  that  there 
was  aught  amiss  in  his  character.  He  felt  alive  and 
well,  and  trusted  that  he  was  good  enough  to  be 
going  to  heaven.  He  looked  into  the  law,  and  like 
this  young  man,  declared  sincerely,  "  All  these 
have  I  kept."  But  whilst  he  was  still  gazing  into 
the  dusty  glass,  and  saying  to  himself,  '  I  am  whole 
and  need  no  physician,'  of  a  sudden  the  Spirit  of 
God  let  in  a  flood  of  light,  and  at  the  same  moment 
the  tenth  commandment  brushed  the  film  from  the 
face  of  the  mirror,  and  shewed  him  swarms  of  evil 
thoughts  and  unholy  wishes  ;  and  oh !  what  an  altered 
man  he  saw  himself.  What  a  leprous  and  plague- 
stricken  soul  he  saw  his  own  to  be  !  What  a  doomed 
and  death-stricken  spirit  he  felt  it !  And  how  when 
that  one  commandment  came,  sin  was  vivified ;  his 
real  character  was  revealed,  and  the  self-justifying 
legalist"  died !" 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.     269 

But  when  the  Saviour  sent  this  youth  to  the  mirror, 
the  dust  was  on  it,  and  the  room  was  dark.  With 
perfect  sincerity,  but  sadly  mistaking,  he  reported, 
"All  these  have  I  kept."  And  this  fatal  error 
frustrated  all  the  rest.  Feeling  no  need  of  an  atoning 
sacrifice,  or  a  Divine  forgiveness,  there  was  no  reason 
why  he  should  take  up  the  cross  and  follow  Jesus. 
He  was  not,  to  his  own  sensations  at  least,  one  of 
those  lost  ones,  whom  the  Friend  of  Sinners  came  to 
seek  and  to  save. 

And  doubtless,  it  still  is  this  which  makes  many 
stop  short  of  the  Saviour.  They  see  no  sin  in  them- 
selves; or,  at  all  events,  no  sin  that  is  damnable. 
They  allow  that  they  are  infirm  and  imperfect,  and 
that,  like  all  other  people,  they  have  their  faults  and 
their  short-comings.  But  anything  so  atrocious  as  to 
merit  the  Divine  displeasure,  they  deprecate  and  dis- 
own, for,  honestly,  they  cannot  discover  it. 

The  young  man  was  aware  of  no  short-coming,  no 
transgression;  and,  although  the  first  table  of  the 
law  had  next  been  held  up,  he  could  have  viewed  him- 
self in  it  with  equal  complacency.  Such  is  the  deceit- 
fulness  of  sin,  and  such  is  the  deadness  of  conscience 
till  quickened  by  the  Spirit  of  God !  But,  suppose 
that  at  this  point  it  had  flashed  on  his  conviction, 
'All  these  have  I  misunderstood  and  mismanaged 
from  my  youth.  I  have  kept  them  not  to  God  but 
to  myself.     My  good  deeds  have  been  put  together 


270  INTERVIEWS. 

like  so  many  dead  and  disjointed  sticks  to  make 
rounds  in  a  ladder  that  would  reach  up  to  heaven ; 
they  have  not  grown  like  green  branches  spontaneous 
and  beautiful  from  a  living  tree,  the  root  of  which 
was  love  to  God  and  my  neighbour.  I  have  been  a 
mere  selfist,  living  for  men's  praise,  living  for  my  own 
interest  or  indulgence;  and  if  God  has  been  some- 
times in  my  thoughts  He  has  been  seldom  in  my 
heart:  He  has  been  to  me  the  hard  task-master 
instead  of  the  dear  Father  and  the  gracious  Sovereign; 
and,  whilst  He  has  been  shut  out  from  my  heart,  I 
have  tried  to  propitiate  Him  by  a  quit-rent  handed 
forth  from  the  window,  by  a  few  good  words  spoken  in 
prayer,  a  few  coins  given  away  in  alms  or  cast  into 
the  treasury.  0  Master,  canst  thou  replace  the  living 
God  in  a  worldling's  soul?  Is  there  any  pardon  for 
my  long  impiety  ?  Canst  thou  teach  me  to  love  the 
Lord  God  with  all  my  heart  and  mind?'  Suppose 
that  this  had  been  the  bitter  cry  awakened  by  his 
conscious  emptiness,  he  was  now  in  the  presence  of 
one  who  could  abundantly  comfort.  He  had  come  to 
consult  one  who  could  not  only  pardon  the  past,  but 
in  whose  society  he  might  soon  have  recovered  the 
lost  secret  of  Paradise,  and  learned  to  delight  in  the 
living  God  as  a  Father  and  a  Friend.  Nay,  little  as 
he  surmised  it,  that  "  good  Master  "  was  Himself  the 
i  good  God,'  and  in  following  Jesus,  frequenting  His 
society,  listening  to  His  words,  imbibing  His  dispo- 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.    271 

sitions,  he  would  have  been  daily  more  and  more 
weaned  from  self-seeking  and  self-dependence,  and 
would  have  been  trained  and  educated  back  again 
into  that  filial  spirit  which  was  the  spirit  of  unfallen 
Adam,  and  which  is  eternal  life  already  begun  in 
the  soul. 

2.  Having  failed  by  His  question  to  reveal  to  his 
visitor  the  plague  of  his  own  heart,  the  Saviour  told 
him  to  do  a  thing  which  would  shew  him  the  strength 
of  his  besetting  sin.  The  Saviour  first  held  up  the 
mirror  of  the  commands  that  he  might  see  himself 
guilty  ;  He  now  touched  the  chain  of  his  peculiar 
carnality,  that  he  might  perceive  himself  a  slave  and 
a  prisoner.  Amidst  all  his  amiability  and  engaging 
attributes  the  Lord  Jesus  knew  that  he  was  worldly- 
minded.  He  had  his  treasure  on  earth.  He  was  not 
so  intent  on  God's  friendship  that  he  would  give  up 
all  things  for  it ;  but  he  had  so  much  thoughtfulness 
and  foresight,  that  along  with  an  earthly  present,  he 
desired  a  heavenly  future  ;  he  would  like  the  pleasures 
of  sense  now,  and  the  joys  of  glory  in  reversion. 
And  he  hoped  that  perhaps  the  Great  Teacher  might 
put  him  on  a  plan  for  combining  both.  But  aware 
of  his  propensity  Jesus  said  at  once,  u  One  thing  thou 
lackest :  go  thy  way,  sell  whatsoever  thou  hast,  and 
give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in 
heaven  ;  and  come,  take  up  the  cross  and  follow  me." 
'  You  want  to  inherit  eternal  life.     Well,  the  way  to 


272  INTERVIEWS. 

inherit  it  is  to  begin  it  here.  Make  God  your  highest 
good  and  chiefest  joy,  and  your  eternal  life  is  begun 
already.  But  you  are  not  doing  that.  Your  treasure 
is  not  in  heaven,  but  here ;  your  treasure  is  your 
farm  and  your  fine  estate.  God  is  saying  to  you,  My 
son,  give  me  thine  heart ;  but  you  give  that  heart  to 
your  property.  These  great  possessions  are  your  god. 
You  live  and  move  for  them,  and  your  being  is  bound 
up  in  them.  Can  you  part  with  them,  and  take  God 
for  your  portion?  Can  you  live  by  faith?  Canst 
thou  sell  all  that  thou  hast ;  and  like  myself  and  my 
followers  live  on  the  daily  providence  of  God?* 
"  Sell  whatsoever  thou  hast !  "  The  thing  was  not 
to  be  thought  of.  Treasure  in  heaven  was  good,  but 
treasure  on  earth  was  indispensable.  So,  grieved  at 
the  sentence,  sorry  that  the  terms  were  so  severe, 
sorry  that  the  response  of  Jesus  was  so  plain  and  so 
absolute ;  sorry  to  have  all  the  hopes  of  the  past  and 
the  plans  of  that  morning  dashed  by  one  hard  saying, 
he  slowly  turned  him  round  and  "  went  away." 

Went  away !  He  came  running.  His  steps  were 
light  and  eager  then ;  for  he  almost  hoped  that  he 
was  about  to  find  the  pearl  of  great  price,  and  that 
that  very  day  he  might  carry  salvation  back  to  his 
house.  But  all  that  was  over  now  ;  and  sure  we  are 
he  was  not  running  when  he  went  away.  The  woman 
at  Jacob's  well  ran  when  she  hasted  to  tell  her  neigh- 
bours   that    she    had    found    the    Christ;    but    the 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.    273 

neighbours  who  saw  the  ruler  wending  "back  to  his 
abode,  might  see  that  he  had  lost  something.  Yes  I 
he  had  lost  his  day  of  grace.  He  had  lost  his  golden 
opportunity  for  obtaining  eternal  life.  If  he  had 
known  the  gift  of  God,  and  who  it  was  that  said  to 
him,  Sell  what  thou  hast,  he  would  have  done  it  on 
the  spot,  and  on  the  spot  Jesus  would  have  given 
him  treasure  in  heaven.  But  that  opportunity  was 
gone.  Jesus  returned  to  that  region  no  more.  He 
was  going  to  Jerusalem.  He  was  travelling  to  the 
Cross.  His  earthly  journeys  were  well-nigh  ended, 
and  that  particular  road  He  should  traverse  no  more. 
Ah,  no  !  amiable  but  misguided  young  man  !  The 
moment  is  passed.  Jesus  has  gone  one  way,  and 
thou  hast  gone  another  :  and  ere  noon  the  Friend  of 
sinners  will  be  far  from  these  domains.  But  surely 
thou  never  canst  forget  the  interview  of  this  morning. 
"When  thou  art  grown  old  and  miserly,  when  thou 
hast  lost  the  simplicity  and  warmth  which  for  the 
present  redeem  thy  worldliness,  and  when  no  friends 
are  near  thee  except  on-hangers  scrambling  for  thy 
great  possessions,  perhaps  thou  mayest  recall  this 
morning,  and  sigh  to  think  that  a  Friend  in  heaven  and 
treasure  there  were  once  within  thine  offer  !  And  sure 
enough  thou  wilt  remember  it  one  day.  There  were 
no  prints  in  His  hands  and  feet  with  whom  thou 
didst  part  this  morning,  nor  was  there  any  crown 
upon  His  brow.     But  there  will  be  when  thou  seest 


274  INTERVIEWS. 

Him  again.  That  Jesus  who  passed  near  thy  house 
this  morning  will  be  the  crucified,  the  glorified,  when 
next  He  meets  thine  eyes  ;  and  He  who  this  morning 
loved  thee  as  the  Son  of  Man,  will  that  day  judge 
thee  as  the  Son  of  God.  By  that  time  thou  shalt  be 
where  great  possessions  cannot  profit,  but  where  the 
bargains  of  time  cannot  be  recalled.  The  man 
Christ  Jesus  looked  at  thee  lovingly  this  morning ; 
but  how  will  Jehovah  the  Judge  look  at  thee  then  ? 
at  the  man  who  had  salvation  in  his  offer,  but  refused 
it  ?  at  the  man  who  preferred  a  few  acres  of  earth  to 
treasure  in  heaven?  at  the  man  who  chose  to  have 
all  his  good  things  below  ?  at  the  man  who,  when  the 
Saviour  said,  "  Follow  me,"  went  away  ? 

1.  From  this  affecting  history  we  see  how  far 
people  may  go,  and  yet  fall  short  of  heaven.  This 
youth  was  orthodox,  moral,  and  engaging;  but  he 
lacked  one  thing  :  he  lacked  the  new  heart ;  he  lacked 
that  lowly  mind  which  sees  its  guilt  and  vileness  ; 
that  trustful  mind  which  is  ready  to  forsake  all  and 
follow  Jesus ;  that  renovated  mind  to  which  righteous- 
ness is  meat  and  drink,  and  the  sense  of  God's  favour 
the  chiefest  joy. 

And  perhaps  our  young  reader  may  have  gone  as 
far.  You  are  correct  and  well  conducted ;  you  pray, 
and  read  the  Bible.  Your  friends  see  your  sweetness 
of  disposition  and  the  mildness  of  your  manners ;  but 
do  you  love  the  Lord  Jesus  ?     Have  you  intrusted 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  WENT  AWAY  SORROWFUL.     275 

to  Him  your  soul's  salvation  ?  Are  you  ready  to 
part  with  anything  which  He  bids  you  renounce? 
And  are  you  so  devoted  to  His  service,  that  you  are 
not  ashamed  to  be  known  as  His  disciple,  as  a  mem- 
ber of  His  Church,  and  as  a  separatist  from  a  sinful 
world  ?  Are  you  willing  to  take  up  the  cross  and 
follow  Christ  ? 

2.  And  you  see  how  wise  it  is  to  abandon  at  once 
anything  which  hinders  your  salvation.  There  may 
be  money  in  the  purse,  and  yet  no  idolatry  of  money 
in  the  heart.  Abraham,  and  David,  and  Daniel  had 
u  great  possessions,"  and  yet  they  got  to  heaven ; 
and,  after  this,  Cornelius  and  the  Ethiopian  treasurer, 
and  Gaius,  and  Joseph  of  Arimathea,  in  "  entering 
the  kingdom,"  took  their  riches  along  with  them,  and 
uped  them  profitably  in  the  service  of  their  Saviour 
and  their  brethren.  But  the  Lord  Jesus  saw  that 
the  plague  of  this  ruler's  heart  was  avarice,  or  the 
worship  of  wealth.  He  saw  that  he  was  in  the  bond 
of  the  same  iniquity  which  made  Demas  go  back  to 
the  world,  and  which  turned  Lot's  wife  into  a  pillar 
of  salt.  And,  not  because  there  is  anything  sinful  in 
property,  but  because  to  this  avaricious  youth  his 
property  would  prove  a  perpetual  snare — because,  in 
his  case,  to  part  with  it  would  be  the  surest  sign  of 
his  present  sincerity  and  the  greatest  help  to  his 
future  consistency,  the  Lord  Jesus  insisted  on  its 
entire  and  instant  surrender. 


276  INTERVIEWS. 

In  like  manner,  whatever  stands  in  the  way  of 
your  salvation,  be  it  something  positively  sinful,  or 
something  lawful  idolised,  that  is  the  thing  which 
the  Lord  Jesus  bids  you  abandon.  There  is  nothing 
sinful  in  music ;  but  we  have  read  of  instances  where 
music  was  a  mania ;  where,  like  a  possession,  it 
carried  its  victims  to  all  company,  however  unsuit- 
able, and  detained  them  at  all  hours,  however  un- 
seasonable ;  and  when  they  became  supremely  anxi- 
ous about' the  "one  thing,"  they  found  it  needful 
to  enforce  a  rigid  abstinence  from  their  favourite 
enjoyment.  There  is  nothing  sinful  in  a  little 
wine,  but  if  that  little  create  a  wish  for  more, 
and  the  man  finds  that  his  growing  love  for  strong 
drink  will  stand  betwixt  him  and  the  hope  of  salva- 
tion, he  would  be  a  wise  man  never  to  taste  it  again 
so  long  as  the  world  standeth.  And  whatever  it  be 
which  you  find  the  great  obstacle  to  Christian  deci- 
sion,— play-going,  novel-reading,  frivolous  company, 
the  race-course,  the  ball-room,  the  card-table, — we 
shall  not  now  dispute  about  its  abstract  lawfulness  ; 
we  only  ask,  Is  that  habit  so  powerful,  that  even  for 
Christ  and  for  heaven  you  cannot  give  it  up  ?  Is  that 
propensity  so  strong,  that  this  day,  when  the  Saviour 
says,  "Arise,  and  follow  me,"  you  cannot  comply, 
because  something  else  has  a  stronger  hold  upon  you, 
and  compels  you  to  go  away  exceeding  sorrowful  ? 


%  ffoung  Pan  fojjo  left  all  anh  folloto 

|esus. 

On  the  western  side  of  the  Lake  of  Galilee  there  was 
a  cluster  of  thriving  little  villages ;  and  although  the 
inhabitants  did  not  depend  entirely  on  the  lake  for 
their  subsistence,  yet  most  of  them  were  at  least 
occasionally  fishermen.  Amongst  the  rest  there  was 
a  good  man  who  was  better  off  than  some  of  his  fellow- 
townsmen  ;  for  he  not  only  had  a  craft  of  his  own, 
but  could  hire  servants  to  man  it ;  and  we  afterwards 
find  that  members  of  his  family  were  acquainted  with 
the  best  society  in  Jerusalem.  In  his  substantial 
and  comfortable  abode  this  worthy  citizen  had  a  pious 
wife  called  Salome,  and  two  sons  whose  names  were 
James  and  John.  It  is  a  short  sketch  of  the  younger 
which  we  here  purpose  to  give. 

We  know  little  of  his  early  days,  but  they  would 
doubtless  resemble  the  early  days  of  neighbour- 
children.  He  would  launch  his  tiny  skiff  on  the 
waters  of  the  lake,  and  would  deem  it  grand  pro- 
motion when  allowed  to  go  out  with  the  men  in  the 


278  INTERVIEWS. 

pinnace.  In  all  the  pride  of  conscious  usefulness, 
he  would  bail  out  the  water,  and  bait  the  hooks,  and 
the  first  time  that  his  own  line  quivered  with  a  scaly 
captive,  he  would  hurry  it  up  hand  over  hand,  and 
flush  with  elation  as  it  jumped  and  floundered  in 
the  hold — the  fairest  and  most  precious  of  fishes. 
And  by  and  by  he  felt  it  romantic  to  spend  the  whole 
night  on  the  water,  furling  the  sail  on  that  eerie 
eastern  shore ;  and  as  he  lay  watching  the  buoys  in  the 
moonlight,  he  would  sometimes  hear  the  howl  of  the 
wolf,  or  the  laugh  of  the  hyama  up  among  the  tombs, 
or  would  see  capering  along  the  coast  the  frantic 
demoniac.  But  the  Sabbath  came,  and  not  a  sail  was 
stirring  on  all  those  peaceful  waters.  It  was  the  day 
which  God  had  made,  and  it  was  given  to  devotion. 
With  his  father,  and  mother,  and  brother,  John  went 
to  the  synagogue,  and  listened  to  some  rabbi  expound- 
ing the  Law,  and  was  sometimes  promoted  to  read  a 
long  passage  himself  to  the  village  assembly.  And 
when  that  service  was  ended,  he  came  home,  and 
either  under  the  fig-tree  or  in  the  alcove  on  the  top 
of  the  house,  gazing  away  over  the  green  acres  on 
towards  the  snowy  peaks  of  Hermon,  he  allowed  his 
imagination  to  wander  at  will.  And  though  we  do 
not  know  what  led  to  it,  we  know  that  the  youth 
began  to  think  about  his  soul.  Perhaps  it  was  the 
conversation  of  his  pious  mother,  whose  spirit  was 
intent  on  the  consolation  of  Israel;  perhaps  it  was 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  LEFT  ALL.  279 

the  striking  scenes  he  witnessed  in  his  first  journey  to 
Jerusalem — the  scape-goat,  the  paschal  lamb,  and  the 
daily  sacrifice,  and  all  that  great  dramatic  sermon  on 
the  subject  of  sin  and  atonement  which  in  the  Holy 
City  Jehovah  preached  to  his  peculiar  people.  But, 
at  all  events,  the  youth  grew  thoughtful.  He  had 
committed  no  gross  or  open  crime,  and  yet  he  felt,  him- 
self none  the  less  a  sinner.  And  hearing  that  a  great 
preacher  had  appeared  in  the  south  country,  John  set 
out  to  attend  his  ministry. 

When  he  came  to  the  spot  he  found  a  great  con- 
course. Indeed,  with  its  long-robed  lawyers  and  its 
steel-clad  soldiers ;  with  its  silken  ladies  and  its 
swarthy  boors ;  with  its  tents,  and  its  hucksters,  and 
its  sumpter-asses,  the  place  looked  like  a  great  civic 
encampment,  or  a  town  turned  out  on  the  meadows. 
As  he  crossed  the  ferry,  and  pushing  up  through 
the  oleanders  and  sedges  joined  the  crowd  beside  the 
river,  the  young  pilgrim  was  arrested  by  a  conspicu- 
ous figure, — a  meagre  weather-beaten  man,  with 
head  uncovered,  and  with  a  mantle  of  coarse  camel's 
hair.  The  throng  hung  enchained  on  his  thrilling 
tones,  and  stood  revealed  to  his  bright  flashing  eye. 
He  was  proclaiming  the  near  approach  of  Messiah, 
and  was  putting  it  to  his  audience  if  they  were  really 
prepared  for  the  arrival  of  one  so  holy  and  so  divine — 
one  who  would  only  gather  wheat  into  His  garner, 
and  from  the  flap  of  whose  winnowing-fan  hypocrisy 


280  INTERVIEWS. 

would  fly  away  like  chaff  from  the  tempest.  And  as 
he  marshalled  up  the  ten  commands,  each  bodied 
forth  into  a  stern  accuser,  and  shook  its  head  so 
ominously  that  self-complacency  sunk  back  into  itself, 
and  the  gayest  trifler  was  fain  to  cry,  '"  O  God,  be 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner! "  Prodigious  is  the  force  of 
earnest  words.  Hardly  yet  had  the  Holy  Ghost  been 
given;  but  such  was  the  mastery  over  men  imparted 
to  the  Baptist  by  loyalty  to  God  and  outspoken  fear- 
lessness, that  frivolity  grew  serious  and  pride  crest- 
fallen. And,  as  a  confession  of  the  polluted  past 
and  a  promise  of  a  holier  future,  there  was  hardly 
one  who  did  not  pass  through  the  cleansing  ordeal, 
and  entering  by  the  door  of  water-baptism,  assume 
an  expectant  attitude  towards  the  approaching  king- 
dom. 

To  understand  the  sequel,  we  may  assume  that 
John  even  now  possessed  those  attributes  of  character 
which  he  afterwards  abundantly  exhibited — a  con- 
templative turn,  candour,  and  acquaintance  with 
Scripture.  There  is  a  certain  delicacy  of  scriptural 
allusion,  a  certain  dexterity  in  quoting  it,  which,  just 
like  the  choice  idioms  and  elegant  felicities  of  a  man 
speaking  his  native  tongue  rather  than  one  acquired 
late  in  life,  betoken  a  deep  and  early  acquaintance 
with  the  books  of  the  Bible ;  and  in  such  profound 
quotations  and  recondite  allusions  John's  writings 
abound,  giving  us  reason  to  believe  that  in  his  Gali- 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  LEFT  ALL.  281 

lean  home  he  had  studied  betimes  Moses  and  the 
prophets.*  And  what  he  perused  he  pondered.  He 
was  a  man  of  meditation — a  man  to  whom  thought 
was  an  enjoyment — reflection  and  reasoning  the  re- 
pose of  his  spirit.  But  though  a  thinker,  he  was  not 
constitutionally  a  sceptic.  Without  prejudice,  and 
without  precipitation,  he  had  a  mind  prepared  to 
yield  to  evidence — that  frank  and  limpid  nature, 
through  which,  as  through  the  clear  fountain  or  the 
crystal  window,  ihe  rays  of  truth  find  ready  transit. 

With  this  Bible  knowledge,  this  thoughtfulness, 
this  candour,  it  was  hardly  possible  for  John  to 
hearken  to  the  Baptist  without  being  deeply  con- 
vinced of  his  lost  estate,  and  without  listening  eagerly 
to  what  the  speaker  added  about  that  Greater  than 
himself,  who  was  coming  to  take  away  the  sin  of  the 
world.  On  a  Gentile,  or  an  ignorant  Jew,  the  words 
might  have  fallen  pointless ;  but  in  the  alert  spirit  of 
John  they  touched  a  hundred  chords,  and  awakened 
countless  echoes ;  and  his  whole  nature  was  in  that 
Btir  of  expectation  which  precedes  a  moral  revolution, 
when  one  day,  wistfully  gazing  at  a  stranger  who 
ied  to  be  passing  by,  the  Baptist  exclaimed, 
"Behold  the  Lamb  of  God,  who  takctli  away  the 
sin  of  the  world !  "  and,  impelled  by  some  Divine 
attraction,  the  young  Galilean    and  his  companion 

♦  8©#  the  "  Four  Witnesses"  of  Da  Costa,  (a  most  profound  and 
io  analysis  of  ihe  characteristics  of  the  four  evangelists),  pp.  265-7- 


282  INTERVIEWS. 

followed,  and  joyfully  embracing  the  invitation  which 
Jesus  gave  them,  tarried  all  night  beneath  the  roof 
where  He  at  that  time  sojourned. 

We  love  to  recall  our  first  interview  with  a  great 
benefactor,  or  with  the  friend  who  has  formed  a  chief 
ingredient  in  our  earthly  happiness :  but  no  such  date 
can  be  so  memorable  as  a  man's  first  acquaintance 
with  his  Saviour.  And  yet  it  is  characteristic  of  this 
apostle's  retiring  disposition  and  sensitive  nature, 
that  of  all  which  transpired  on  that  memorable  even- 
ing, he  has  not  recorded  one  syllable.  A  little  later, 
he  tells  us  what  passed  in  a  similar  interview  with 
Nicodemus ;  and  as  far  as  relates  to  God's  love  to  the 
world,  and  the  lifting  up  of  the  Son  of  Man,  it  is  likely 
that  what  was  said  to  John  and  his  companion  was 
substantially  the  same.  And  though  we  confess  to 
disappointed  curiosity,  though  it  would  have  been 
not  a  little  instructive  to  know  what  were  the  words 
which  first  satisfied  an  intellect  so  superior,  and  which 
first  arrested  a  heart  so  loving,  we  must  be  satisfied 
with  the  result  which  was  next  morning  announced 
to  their  friends  in  words  so  few  but  emphatic,  u  We 
have  found  the  Messias." 

And  here  we  cannot  forbear  a  parenthetic  obser- 
vation. Some  natures  are  effusive  and  outspoken. 
When  they  find  the  lost  sheep,  or  the  lost  shekel, 
they  call  on  their  friends  and  neighbours  to  share  the 
joy,  and  they  cannot  rest  till  they  have  relieved  their 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  LEFT  ALL.  283 

grateful  emotion  by  crying,  "All  ye  that  love  the 
Lord,  come  and  I  will  declare  what  He  hath  done 
for  my  soul."  Like  John  Newton,  they  cannot  for- 
bear, but  they  must  tell  to  every  hearer  what  miracles 
of  mercy  they  are,  and  they  write  a  book  to  record 
how  they  were  snatched  from  the  fearful  pit  and  the 
miry  clay :  whilst  others,  no  less  affected  by  God's 
goodness,  feel  with  Cowper — 

"  Nor  were  it  wise,  nor  should  I  choose 
Such  secrets  to  declare  ; 
Like  precious  wines,  their  taste  they  lose 
Exposed  to  open  air." 

Like  John,  they  shrink  from  publicity;  and  it  is 
not  by  telling  to  the  Church,  or  even  to  their  friends, 
the  story  of  their  conversion,  but  it  is  by  the  way 
they  speak  and  act  for  Christ,  that  the  world  is  ap- 
prised of  their  great  discovery,  and  the  consequent 
revolution  in  their  characters. 

And  this,  we  believe,  is  all  which  even  the  Church 
is  entitled  to  demand.  For  whilst,  on  the  one  hand, 
there  may  be  an  explicitness  which  is  aught  but 
egotism — whilst  to  a  frank  and  exuberant  spirit  it 
may  feel  like  coldness  or  cowardice  to  conceal  the 
doing  of  the  Lord,  another  may  revolt  from  any 
recital  of  his  own  experience  as  verging  on  vain- 
glory, or  as  a  self-exhibition  at  once  unseemly  and 
distasteful.  And  if  we  are  thankful  to  Paul,  who 
repeats  again  and  again  the  incidents  of  his  conver- 


284  INTERVIEWS. 

sion,  the  example  of  John  may  teach  us  that  we 
are  not  entitled  to  constitute  ourselves  fathers-con- 
fessors, and  force  into  a  full  and  particular  statement 
of  their  experience  those  who  would  rather  "  keep  the 
matter  in  their  heart," 

John  went  back  to  Bethsaida.  He  went  back  to 
Zebedee  and  the  fishing  boat — to  his  old  friends  and 
his  former  avocation  ;  and  had  Christ  not  summoned 
him  to  a  higher  calling,  he  would  have  done  well  to 
abide  as  he  was  to  the  end  of  his  days.  And,  witli 
the  consciousness  which  he  now  possessed,  John 
might  have  led  on  that  lake  of  Galilee  an  existence 
happier  and  more  sublime  than  Seneca  was  then 
spending  in  his  cedar  library,  or  Tiberius  in  his  glit- 
tering palace.  "The  mind  is  its  own  place;"  and 
just  as  shabby  notions  and  mean  projects  may  nestle 
beneath  a  coronet,  so  heaven's  heir-apparent  is  some- 
times attired  in  coarsest  raiment,  and  is  holding 
fellowship  with  God  even  when  it  is  a  sorry  employ- 
ment in  which  his  fingers  are  engaged.  And  should 
the  reader  be  one  whose  outward  lot  is  little  in  unison 
With  his  intellectual  or  moral  aspirations — like  John 
after  that  night  with  Jesus  at  Bethabara,  should  you 
be  obliged  to  return  to  a  companionship  as  contracted 
and  to  a  calling  as  irksome  as  awaited  the  young 
disciple  on  Genesareth  :— remember  that  John  and  a 
few  friends  like-minded  have  thrown  around  the  once 
obscure  lake  of  Galilee  and  the  humble  craft  of  the 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  LEFT  ALL.  285 

fisherman  associations  almost  amounting  to  sacred- 
ness :  and  if  your  vocation  is  too  lowly  to  elevate 
you,  be  you  yourself  so  conscientious,  so  pure  and 
noble-hearted,  so  full  of  Christ,  as  to  leave  that  calling 
the  more  dignified  because  it  is  the  one  which  you 
once  occupied. 

But  John  was  not  destined  to  tarry  many  months 
amongst  his  old  neighbours  and  their  work.  Al- 
though it  is  well  for  us  that  there  is  One  who  foresees 
all  our  future  and  who  knows  the  way  which  we 
take,  it  is  well  for  us  that  we  do  not  know  it  ourselves : 
and  so,  by  short  and  gentle  stages,  with  seldom  more 
than  one  trial  in  any  single  vista,  and  usually  with 
many  sweet  beguilements  by  the  way,  we  are  lured 
along  till  our  generation  is  served  and  the  work  which 
God  has  given  us  is  done.  At  the  moment  when 
Jesus  called  himself  and  his  brother,  could  it  have 
been  revealed  to  John,  *  He  is  calling  you  to  sixty 
years  of  wandering  and  exile.  Bethsaida  will  never 
more  be  your  home.  He  is  calling  you  to  poverty 
and  reproach.  You  will  never  be  able  to  add  another 
mite  to  your  patrimony,  and  you  will  often  be  treated 
as  an  impostor  or  a  fool.  If  you  quit  this  boat  and 
follow  that  man,  you  will  land  in  a  prison  and  on  a 
rock  of  lonely  Uinishment:  I  will  not  say  but  you 
find  yourself  at  last  in  the  tyrant's  gripe,  Bung 
into  the  seething  caldron  or  shut  up  in  the  lions' 
den  :' — we  dare  I  thai  lie  would  have  been  sc 


286  INTERVIEWS. 

daunted  as  to  refuse  to  go,  but  he  would  have  gone 
with  a  very  different  feeling  from  that  which  now 
bore  him  over  the  vessel's  side,  and  placed  him  a 
recruit  instant  and  joyful  in  Messiah's  little  retinue. 
No — those  days  beside  the  Jordan  and  that  night  in 
Christ's  own  dwelling,  were  still  vivid  to  his  memory, 
and  the  hope  of  others  like  them  was  a  spell  before 
which  home-ties  dissolved  and  danger  disappeared : 
and,  in  the  kind  wisdom  of  the  Master,  fresh  excite- 
ments and  new  requitals  so  succeeded  one  another ; 
and  in  the  disclosures  of  a  more  intimate  commu- 
nion, the  great  original  motive — love  to  Christ — so 
deepened,  that  John  was  never  tempted  for  a 
moment  to  regret  that  day's  decision.  He  heard 
the  sermon  on  the  Mount.  He  saw  Jairus'  daughter 
raised  to  life,  and  the  widow's  son  at  Nain. 
He  helped  to  feed  with  the  miraculous  loaves  the 
famished  multitude.  He  shared,  in  some  degree,  the 
love  and  gratitude  which  gathered  round  his  Master 
as  the  Healer  of  diseases,  and  the  Forgiver  of  sins. 
He  was  with  Jesus  on  the  Holy  Mount.  He  was 
with  Him  in  the  guest-chamber.  He  was  with  Him 
in  Gethsemane.  He  was  with  Him  in  the  hall  of 
the  palace  of  his  friend  the  high-priest.  He  was  with 
Him  upon  Calvary :  in  the  upper  room :  on  Olivet, 
And  after  the  Saviour  had  gone  hence,  the  mother  of 
Jesus  was  still  with  John.  And  then,  though  perse- 
cution came,  Pentecost  was  also  come;  and  though 


A  YOUNG   MAN  WHO  LEFT  ALL.  287 

Jesus  was  gone,  the  Holy  Ghost  was  given.  And 
though  sorrow  came  after  sorrow — though  James  was 
slain  with  the  sword,  and  though  Jerusalem,  with  all 
its  endearments,  had  to  be  left  behind,  yet  success 
followed  success,  and  Ephesus,  and  Smyrna,  and 
Thyatira,  ¥  Gaius,  mine  host,"  and  Demetrius,  were 
antidotes  to  overmuch  sorrow,  and  incentives  to  re- 
newed exertion ; — even  as  it  will  be  with  ourselves, 
when  God  calls  us  to  any  great  or  good  undertaking. 
Could  we  realise  beforehand  the  opposition,  the  ob- 
loquy, the  fatigue,  the  misconstruction,  the  wakeful 
nights,  the  weary,  jaded  days — were  the  real  diffi- 
culties present  to  our  mind  in  all  their  force,  we 
should  be  very  apt  to  linger  in  the  boat  and  con- 
tinue mending  our  nets,  even  after  Jesus  had  said, 
¥  Arise,  follow  me."  But  these  trials  are,  in  great 
mercy,  hidden  at  the  moment  when  the  one  mighty 
motive  is  working ;  and  when  they  do  arise,  they  so 
alternate  with  gracious  encouragements — when  one 
friend  gives  way,  another  is  so  opportunely  raised  up  ; 
when  the  home-scene  is  dark,  such  good  news  comes 
from  elsewhere ;  when  some  effort  proves  abortive  on 
which  prodigious  pains  were  expended,  such  unac- 
countable success  crowns  another,  that,  like  the  sol- 
dier who  in  the  morning's  victory  forgets  the  rainy 
bivouac  of  last  night,  and  all  his  projects  of  returning, 
the  cliivaln -n-  betiftfttr  resumes  the  fight,  and,  like 
John  in  his  long  campaign  of  seventy  years,  is  always 


288  INTERVIEWS. 

committing  himself  to  new  labours  of  love,  "  faint, 
yet  pursuing ; "  and  when  he  drops  at  last,  his  atti- 
tude is  onward,  and  his  position  where  he  falls  is  in 
advance  of  the  ground  where  he  rested  yesterday. 

When  Noah  lifted  the  hatch,  and  looked  out  at  the 
window  of  his  ark,  he  saw  quite  another  world  from 
that  which  he  had  looked  upon  when  God  shut  the 
door  and  closed  him  in.  It  was  a  world  where  he 
would  meet  none  of  his  old  neighbours — where  the 
old  subjects  of  engrossing  speculation  would  have 
ceased  to  interest — where  the  old  scenes  would  wear 
a  new  aspect — where  old  things  were  passed  away, 
and  all  things  were  become  new.  Noah  had  seen  an 
old  world  die,  and  a  new  world  born. 

When  John  took  his  last  look  from  the  craggy 
heights  of  Patmos,  he  was  a  patriarch  gazing  from 
the  summit  of  a  moral  Ararat.  It  was  not  that  out- 
ward nature  had  made  a  change ;  for  the  evening  sun 
wheeled  gloriously  down  on  the  far  western  waves, 
and  the  mighty  Mediterranean  still  swept  his  azure 
billows  along  the  bleak  ribs  of  Patmos,  or  went  to 
sleep  on  the  snowy  sands  of  its  sheltered  bay.  With 
it3  garland  of  glossy  green,  the  Christmas  rose  still 
crowned  the  rocks  where  the  sea-gull  nestled,  as  it 
had  crowned  them  centuries  ago ;  and  the  ships  of 
Tarshish  were  seen  glancing  and  tacking  in  the  far 
offing,  as  they  had  done  when  Jonah  was  the  passen- 
ger, and  Hiram  was  the  sailor  king.     All  these  things 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  LEFT  ALL.  289 

continued  as  they  were  when  the  fathers  fell  asleep  ; 
but  other  things  were  changed.  Had  the  apostle's 
eye  been  keen  enough  to  penetrate  so  far,  from  the 
top  of  the  rock  he  might  have  seen  Jerusalem  a  deso- 
late heap — those  streets  which,  when  first  he  trod 
them,  stirred  and  buzzed  with  countless  myriads, 
abandoned  to  the  vulture,  and  the  beautiful  temple  a 
pile  of  smashed  pillars  and  scorched  timbers,  render- 
ing the  old  ritual  of  Solomon  and  Moses  a  desperate 
impossibility.  Northward  he  might  have  looked, 
and  his  own  seven  churches  would  have  risen  to 
his  view;  and  westward  Corinth  with  its  Christian 
congregations,  and  Rome  with  its  saints  in  Caesar's 
household.  With  scarce  a  land  that  did  not  contain 
its  Christain  worshippers,  with  scarce  a  tongue  in 
which  the  name  of  Jesus  had  not  been  proclaimed, 
with  that  old  dispensation  departed,  and  with  the 
idols  of  heathendom  trembling  in  every  shrine — in 
that  destruction  of  guilty  and  doomed  Jerusalem,  in 
that  infeoffment  already  taken  in  His  purchased 
heritage,  the  heathen — John  felt  that,  if  this  were  not 
all  the  coming  of  his  Master  which  he  had  reason  to 
expect,  it  was  all  for  which  the  disciple  could 
patiently  wait;  and,  with  old  associations  revived  by 
these  apocalyptic  visions,  and  old  affections  burning 
afresh,  he  wished  that  his  dear  Lord  would  come  and 
take  him  to  Himself.  "  Even  so,  come,  Lord  Jesus ; 
come  quickly."  ^-*^ 


t'UHIVBKn 


290  INTERVIEWS. 

We  do  not  know  the  particulars  of  John's  dying 
hours.  Early  church  history  tells  us  that  it  was  a 
peaceful  death.  He  did  not  die  a  martyr,  as  his  own 
brother  did.  No  Herod  spilled  his  blood.  We  do 
not  know  the  place.  Like  Moses'  grave,  no  man 
knows  for  certain  where  he  is  buried  to  this  day. 
Nor  are  we  told  who  surrounded  his  dying  bed. 
There  is  only  one  Friend  who  we  know  for  certain 
was  there.  And,  reader,  if  you  be  a  disciple,  Jesus 
will  be  at  your  bedside  when  you  come  to  die.  It 
may  be  in  a  Patmos — a  land  of  distance  or  exile ;  or 
an  Ephesus— a  place  where  Christian  friends  will  come 
to  see  you,  and  where  the  congregation  in  which  you 
were  wont  to  worship  will  remember  you  when  it 
meets  to  pray.  It  may  be  in  a  quiet  chamber,  where 
loving  relatives  stand  by ;  or  in  a  lonely  unplenished 
room,  where  a  kind  neighbour  looks  in  now  and  then 
to  see  if  you  are  wanting  anything.  Salome  and 
James  may  have  gone  before ;  your  mother  and  your 
brethren  may  no  longer  be  with  you :  but,  whoever 
dies,  the  Lord  Jesus  lives ;  and  if  you  be  His  dis- 
ciple, you  will  not  depart  in  solitude.  Jesus  will  be 
with  you.  And  once  you  have  fallen  asleep,  your 
very  dust  will  not  be  neglected  nor  forgotten.  The 
Saviour  will  watch  over  it  till  that  bright  morrow 
when  He  shall  draw  the  blue  curtain  of  these  skies, 
and,  revealing  a  sun  which  never  sets,  shall  arouse 
you  all  recruited  for  the  sleepless  services  of  eternity. 


A  YOUNG  MAN  WHO  LEFT  ALL.  291 

There  were  many  fishermen  on  the  Lake  of  Galilee, 
and  many  young  men  in  the  village  of  Bethsaida, 
who  never  became  Christ's  disciples.  And  there 
was  once  a  time  when  nothing  was  further  from  the 
thoughts  of  John.  When  Salome  dandled  him  on 
her  knee ;  when,  with  his  older  brother  and  the  neigh- 
bour children,  he  played  up  and  down  the  steep 
3treet  of  Bethsaida;  when,  in  the  winter  months, 
he  left  the  village  to  look  at  the  swellings  of  Jordan, 
as,  in  volumes  of  foaming  ochre,  it  rolled  and  tumbled 
into  the  flooded  lake  ;  and  when,  a  limber  lad,  he 
shoved  afloat  the  boat  of  Zebedee,  grating  along  the 
gravel,  and  then  leaped  in  and  dealt  out  the  net,  and 
laid  him  down  to  be  rocked  asleep  on  the  swinging 
waves ; — amongst  all  his  dreams  he  never  dreamed 
of  a  day  which  would  see  him  a  fisher  of  men,  and  one 
of  the  dearest  friends  of  Messiah.  But  that  same 
Saviour  who  said  to  John,  "  Arise,  follow  me,"  in- 
vites you,  dear  young  reader,  to  become  His  disciple. 
Be  you  as  ingenuous,  as  obedient,  as  prompt,  and  as 
loving,  and  you  too  will  become  as  lovely,  as  be- 
loved. It  is  a  wonderful  invitation,  but  it  is  real. 
It  comes  from  that  Saviour  who  is  "  the  same  yester- 
day, to-day,  and  for  ever ; "  and  it  is  an  invitation 
which  is  echoed  in  the  last  words  of  this  happy 
evangelist,  who  closes  the  canon  of  Scripture  en  treat- 
ing all  to  come  and  share  the  blessedness  which  he 
had  never  wholly  lacked  since  the  day  that  he  first 


292  INTERVIEWS. 

beheld  "the  Lamb  of  God."  The  Saviour  Invites 
you  to  arise  and  follow  Him  ;  and,  amidst  all  the  pos- 
sibilites  opened  to  you  in  that  high  calling,  do  you 
pray  and  aspire  to  become  u  a  beloved  disciple." 
Like  John,  who,  amidst  the  confidential  communings 
of  the  guest-chamber,  the  affectionate  homage  of  the 
seven  churches,  the  transporting  revelations  of  Pat- 
mos,  could  remember  the  day  when  the  scaly  planks 
of  a  fishing-boat  were  his  bed,  and  a  coil  of  dripping 
ropes  was  his  pillow,  and  when  he  had  few  hopes  or 
aspirations  beyond  his  native  village, — you  know  not 
what  great  things  you  are  yet  to  see.  But  of  all 
spectacles  the  greatest  is  Jesus  himself.  That  sight, 
dwelt  upon  by  John's  adoring  and  absorbing  eyes, 
filled  his  mind  for  the  rest  of  life  with  a  beatific  vision 
of  u  God  manifest,"  and  it  came  out  again  in  a  cha- 
racter so  elevated  and  beautiful,  that  the  whole  Church 
is  now  of  the  same  mind  with  the  Master :  it  loves 
the  disciple  whom  Jesus  loved,  and  recognises  as 
the  most  Christlike  of  all  Christ's  friends,  John  the 
Divine. 


Jinal  (glimpses. 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER. 


%\t  $tfsm  'j&thtmtt. 

The  great  sacrifice  had  been  offered.  The  Son  of 
God  had  exclaimed,  "  It  is  finished,"  and  had  given 
up  the  ghost.  Availing  themselves  of  Pilate's  per- 
mission, Joseph  and  Nicodemus  had  toktu  down  the 
body  of  Jeans,  and  had  deposited  it  in  a  tomb  lately 
hewn  out  of  the  rock  in  Joseph's  garden.  It  was  the 
eve  of  the  Sabbath,  and  the  stars  would  soon  be 
shining,  after  which  no  work  could  be  done.  Their 
arrangements  were  therefore  hasty ;  but  they  took 
time  to  wrap  round  the  precious  remains  a  hundred 
pounds  of  spices,  and  then  rolled  a  great  stone  to  the 
door.  The  Jewish  rulers  suggested  to  Pilate,  that 
perhaps  the  disciples  might  come  and  carry  off  the 
body;  and  to  obviate  this  danger  the  stone  was  fas- 
tened with  seals,  and  a  Roman  guard  set  over  it. 

That  night  passed  on,  and  nothing  transpired.  The 
next  day  was  hushed  and  holy — the  most  sacred  of 
Israel's  Sabbaths  ;  and  within  and  around  the 
sepulchre  all  continued  as  calm  and  silent  as  the 
smokeless  city.     The  Sabbath  day  passed  over,  and 


296  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

soon  after  six  at  night  certain  women  purchased  some 
spices,  and  agreed  to  meet  at  the  sepulchre  early  on 
the  following  morning.  Joanna  and  some  others 
were  to  prepare  the  perfumes ;  hut  before  Joanna  and 
her  companions  arrived,  Mary  the  mother  of  James, 
and  Mary  Magdalene,  and  Salome,  set  out  to  explore 
the  sepulchre.  Probably  they  knew  nothing  of  the 
guard,  but  they  wished  to  know  whether  it  were 
practicable  to  remove  the  great  stone.  But  before 
they  could  arrive,  there  had  been  a  mighty  move- 
ment at  the  sepulchre.  u  There  was  a  great  earth- 
quake ;  for  the  angel  of  the  Lord  descended  from 
heaven,  and  came  and  rolled  back  the  stone  from  the 
door,  and  sat  upon  it.  His  countenance  was  like 
lightning,  and  his  raiment  white  as  snow,  and  for 
fear  of  him  the  keepers  did  shake,  and  became  as 
dead  men."  As  soon  as  they  recovered  from  theii 
consternation,  the  guard  ran  to  the  rulers ;  and  in  the 
meanwhile  the  female  disciples  drew  near  to  the  gar- 
den. As  soon  as  they  entered  it,  and  whilst  they  were 
speculating  how  the  stone  might  be  moved  away,  tc 
their  consternation  they  perceived  that  it  was  already 
displaced,  and  the  sepulchre  was  open.  Instantly 
conjecturing  that  His  enemies  had  removed  the  body, 
perhaps  to  insult  and  maltreat  it,  Mary  Magdalene 
hasted  off  to  give  the  alarm  to  Peter  and  John. 
Meanwhile,  Mary  the  mother  of  James,  and  Salome, 
went  forward  and  saw  an  angel   in  the  form  of  a 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  297 

young  man,  sitting  on  the  right  side  of  the  tomb, 
who  said  to  them,  "Be  not  affrighted.  Ye  seek 
Jesus  of  Nazareth,  who  was  crucified.  He  is  risen. 
He  is  not  here.  Behold  the  place  where  they  laid 
him,"  "And  go  quickly  and  tell  his  disciples  that 
lie  is  risen  from  the  dead,  and  that  he  goeth  before 
you  into  Galilee." 

On  hearing  Magdalene's  report,  John  and  Peter 
instantly  set  out,  and  Magdalene  along  with  them ; 
but  owing  to  their  different  routes  they  did  not  meet 
Salome  and  her  companion  returning.  John  outran 
Peter,  and  first  reached  the  sepulchre  :  but  whilst  he 
was  looking  in  Peter  came  up,  and,  with  characteristic 
impetuosity,  sprang  in  at  once.  There  lay  the  napkin 
carefully  folded,  and  the  shroud  disposed  by  itself ; 
and  it  did  not  at  all  appear  as  if  either  friends  or  foes 
had  hastily  borne  away  the  body.  Peter  and  John 
went  back  to  their  own  home,  and  Mary  Magdalene 
was  left  alone  in  the  garden.  And  thus  left  alone, 
she  drew  near,  and  with  tears  in  her  eyes  looked  into 
the  sepulchre.  There  two  angels  were  sitting — the 
one  at  the  head,  the  other  at  the  feet — where  the  body 
of  Jesus  had  lain.  She  took  them  for  two  young 
men,  and  when  they  asked,  u  Woman,  why  weepest 
thou?"  she  answered,  "Because  they  have  taken 
away  my  Lord,  and  I  know  not  where  they  have  laid 
him."  Just  then,  turning  round,  a  figure  stood  before 
her.     Her  eyes  dim  with  weeping,  she  supposed  it 


298  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

was  the  gardener,  and  encouraged  by  the  kind  way  he 
asked,  H  Why  weepest  thou?  whom  seek  est  thou?"  she 
said,  "  Sir,  if  thou  have  borne  him  hence,  tell  me  where 
thou  hast  laid  him,  and  I  will  take  him  away."  But 
instantly,  in  tones  which  belonged  to  one  voice  only, 
the  Stranger  answered,  u  Mary!  "  and  as  she  sank  at 
His  feet,  He  added,  u  Touch  me  not ;  for  I  am  not 
yet  ascended  to  my  Father :  but  go  to  my  brethren 
and  say  unto  them,  I  ascend  unto  my  Father  and 
your  Father,  and  to  my  God  and  your  God."  And 
before  more  words  could  pass,  He  disappeared  and 
met  Salome  and  the  other  Mary,  and  accosted  them, 
11  All  hail ;  "  and  clasping  His  feet  they  worshipped 
Him,  whilst  He  renewed  the  message  of  the  angels, 
"  Be  not  afraid :  Go  tell  my  brethren  that  they  go 
'into  Galilee  :  there  shall  they  see  me." 

That  same  morning  He  appeared  to  Peter,  and  in 
the  afternoon,  when  two  disciples —  not  apostles — were 
journeying  to  a  town  eight  miles  from  Jerusalem, 
Jesus  joined  them.  They  were  talking  together,  and 
as  it  was  plain  that  their  theme  was  a  sad  one,  the 
Stranger  asked  what  it  was.  They  told  Him  that 
they  had  counted  on  Jesus  of  Nazareth  as  the  Ee- 
deemer  of  Israel, — but  that  He  had  been  slain  three 
days  ago :  moreover,  that  to-day  they  had  been  greatly 
perplexed  by  a  rumour  that  His  tomb  was  empty,  and 
that  no  one  was  there  except  angels,  who  said  that 
He  was  alive  again.     A  long  discourse  ensued,  during 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  299 

which  the  Stranger  demonstrated  out  of  the  prophets 
that  all  this  was  the  plan  of  God,  and  that  these  were 
precisely  the  sufferings  through  which  Messiah  should 
pass  before  He  entered  His  glory.  Whether  it  were 
that  His  attire  or  His  aspect  was  somewhat  different 
from  what  it  used  to  be  ;  or  whether  the  melancholy- 
absorption  of  their  thoughts  prevented  them  from 
sufficiently  noticing  their  new  companion  ;  or  whether 
— as  seems  hinted  in  the  narrative — Jesus  purposely 
held  their  eyes  from  recognising  Him  : — still  they 
journeyed  mile  after  mile,  conscious  only  of  their 
fellow-traveller's  sanctity  and  marvellous  insight  to 
Scripture,  till  they  reached  their  dwelling,  and  as 
He  blessed  their  meal  and  broke  the  bread,  their  eyes 
were  opened,  and  they  knew  Him  :  but  before  they 
could  follow  up  the  transporting  discovery,  He  had 
"ceased  to  be  seen  of  them"* — He  had  vanished  out 
of  their  sight.  With  news  so  surprising  they  sped  all 
the  sixty  furlongs  back  to  Jerusalem  and  told  the 
Eleven,  "  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed,  and  hath  appeared 
unto  Simon,  and  to  us."  That  evening,  as  the  Eleven 
were  assembled  in  an  upper  room,  with  the  doors 
securely  fastened  for  fear  of  the  Jews,  Jesus  stood  in 
the  midst  and  said,  u  Peace  be  unto  you  :  " — but  they 
shrieked  out  and  held  up  their  hands,  as  if  in  the 
presence  of  an  apparition.  But  Jesus  said,  "  WThy 
are  ye  troubled  ?     Behold  my  hands  and  my  feet  that 

•  IfyavTOf  iyivtro  air   avriav,  Luke  xxiv.  3E 


300  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

it  is  I  myself.  Handle  me  and  see,  for  a  spirit  hath 
not  flesh  and  bones  as  ye  see  me  have."  And  while 
they  yet  believed  not  for  joy,  He  asked,  "  Have  ye 
here  any  meat  ?  "  and  when  they  gave  Him  a  piece 
of  a  broiled  fish,  and  of  a  honeycomb,  He  took  it  and 
did  eat  before  them.  He  then  reminded  them — as 
He  truly  might — how  often  He  had  foretold  His 
sufferings  Himself,  and  how  Messiah's  temporary 
death  had  been  predicted  in  the  Prophets  and  the 
Psalms  :  "  Thus  it  behoved  Messiah  to  suffer,  and  to 
rise  from  the  dead  on  the  third  day." 

A  week  passed  on  before  He  was  seen  again.  On 
the  last  occasion  one  apostle  was  absent ;  and  though 
his  brethren  told  him  what  a  long  and  ample  inter- 
view they  had  enjoyed  with  their  risen  Master,  he 
sturdily  refused  to  believe  them.  After  all,  it  must 
have  been  an  apparition,  and  "  except  I  shall  see  in 
his  hands  the  prints  of  the  nails,  and  put  my  finger 
into  the  print  of  the  nails,  and  thrust  my  hand  into 
his  side,  I  will  not  believe."  Next  Sunday  the 
apostles  were  met  as  before,  with  bolted  doors,  and 
this  time  Thomas  was  with  them.  Again  Jesus 
stood  in  the  midst,  and  after  the  salutation,  "  Peace 
be  unto  you,"  turning  to  Thomas,  He  said,  "  Reach 
hither  thy  finger,  and  behold  my  hands ;  and  reach 
hither  thy  hand,  and  thrust  it  into  my  side :  and  Le 
not  faithless,  but  believing."  But  yielding  to  the  irre- 
sistible evidence,  and  overwhelmed  with  this  token  of 


the  iusen  kedeemer.  301 

his   heart-searching   Master's    omniscience,   Thomas 
could  only  exclaim,  "  My  Lord,  and  my  God." 

Most  likely  it  was  that  same  week  that  the  apostles 
went  into  Galilee,  as  they  had  been  directed  to  do ; 
and  here  they  probably  had  repeated  interviews  with 
their  Master,  and  learned  from  His  own  lips  many 
things  concerning  His  kingdom.  But  only  two  of 
these  Galilean  interviews  are  recorded.  The  first 
was  by  the  Lake  of  Gennesareth,  early  on  a  morning 
of  that  wonderful  spring.  Peter,  and  Thomas,  and 
James,  and  John,  and  Nathanael  the  guileless,  and 
two  other  disciples,  were  in  a  fishing  craft.  They 
had  been  very  unsuccessful — for  they  had  toiled  all 
night  and  taken  nothing.  They  were  now  nearing  the 
shore,  when  they  saw  some  one  standing  on  the  beach. 
He  hailed  them,  and  asked  if  they  had  any  food.  They 
answered,  None.  He  bade  them  cast  the  net  on  the 
right  side  of  the  ship ;  which  they  had  no  sooner  done, 
than  they  found  it  so  full  that  they  could  not  hoist 
it  on  board.  With  his  own  sure  instinct,  John  said 
t<»  Peter,  "It  is  the  Lord;"  and  no  sooner  was  the 
truth  suggested,  than  Peter  plunged  over  the  vessel's 
side,  and  swam  the  two  hundred  cubits  to  the  shore. 
There  they  found  a  repast  prepared,  and  there,  as 
they  had  often  done  of  old,  on  the  margin  of  that 
same  lake,  these  seven  listened  to  the  Master's  words, 
as  they  brake  their  bread  together.  The  other  ap- 
pearance in  Galilee  was   on  a  mountain,   perhaps 


302  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

Tabor,  perhaps  the  Mount  of  Beatitudes ;  at  all 
events,  a  mountain  where  He  had  appointed  to  meet 
the  eleven,  and  where,  taking  advantage  of  the  appoint- 
ment, five  hundred  brethren  came  together  to  see  Him, 
of  whom  the  greater  part  survived  full  twenty  years, 
and  were  living  when  Paul  wrote  his  first  letter  to 
the  Church  of  Corinth.  In  that  interview — most 
likely  in  private,  and  apart  from  the  multitude — Jesus 
told  His  apostles  that  all  power  was  given  to  Him  in 
heaven  and  earth,  and  He  bade  them  go  and  teach  all 
nations  whatsoever  things  He  had  commanded  them, 
baptizing  them  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the 
Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  He  added,  u  Lo,  I 
am  with  you  alway,  even  unto  the  end  of  the  world." 
From  Galilee  the  apostles  were  directed  to  return 
to  Jerusalem.  There,  forty  days  after  His  resurrec- 
tion, Jesus  joined  them,  and  led  them  out  a  favourite 
and  familiar  walk  over  the  shoulder  of  Olivet  as  far 
as  to  Bethany.  They  crossed  the  brook  Kedron ; 
for  the  last  time  together  they  passed  near  Geth- 
semane;  they  came  in  sight  of  the  house  where 
Lazarus  dwelt  with  his  sisters  Martha  and  Mary. 
But  to  all  the  incidents  of  that  touching  past,  Jesus 
made  no  allusion.  His  discourse  was  of  such  great 
themes,  as  the  coming  of  the  Holy  Spirit  and  the 
extension  of  God's  kingdom  in  the  earth.  An  inquiry, 
as  to  whether  He  meant  now  to  restore  the  Jewish 
monarchy,  He  discouraged ;  but  bade  the  disciples 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  303 

preach  repentance  and  remission  of  sins  to  all  nations. 
And  as  they,  doubtless,  felt  their  deplorable  incom- 
petency, He  bade  them  tarry  at  Jerusalem  till  they 
received  the  promise  of  the  Father ;  for  "  not  many 
days  hence  ye  shall  be  baptized  with  the  Holy 
Ghost."  And  then — a  last  look  of  love,  and  a  final 
blessing,  and  He  was  ascending  from  their  midst; 
and  anon,  when  the  cloud  had  received  Him,  and  the 
angels  told  them  that  no  gaze  of  fondness  could  make 
Him  visible  again,  they  poured  forth  their  adoration 
in  an  act  of  worship ;  and,  slowly  wending  back  to 
Jerusalem,  and  to  that  dear  upper  chamber,  they 
began  the  life  of  faith,  and  sought  to  realise  the 
promise,  "  Lo,  I  am  with  you  alway." 

On  the  wonderful  sequel  we  cannot  dwell.  We 
must  not  now  stay  to  relate  how  a  few  weeks  con- 
verted into  heroes  and  orators  the  ignorant  boors  and 
aimless  fishermen  of  Galilee ;  and  how,  from  the  dim, 
cold  cavern  of  Jewish  sectarianism,  they  suddenly 
issued  on  the  world  the  most  original  reformers, 
the  most  expansive  philanthropists,  the  most  fervent 
evangelists,  which  that  world  has  ever  seen ;  how, 
in  the  very  streets  where  their  Master  had  been  slain 
not  two  months  previously,  they  proclaimed  His 
resurrection  and  His  Messiahship ;  and  the  rulers 
beat  them,  and  threatened  them,  but  could  not 
contradict  their  testimony,  nor  ventured  to  bring 
forward  the  Roman  guards    to   confute  them;  how 


304  FI N A L  G  LIM  PSES. 

they  confirmed  their  avowal  of  Christ's  resurrection, 
by  submitting  to  tortures,  and  imprisonments,  and 
fearful  forms  of  death ;  and  how  God  also  confirmed 
their  testimony ;  how,  when  they  invoked  the  name 
of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  lame  men  leaped  up,  and  sick 
folk  were  healed ;  and  how,  in  their  great  business  of 
preaching  a  risen  Christ,  the  Holy  Spirit  helped 
them,  so  that,  whilst  all  the  languages  of  earth  became 
easy  as  their  own  vernacular,  their  thoughts  glowed 
like  lightning,  and  their  words  thawed  like  fire; 
how  the  first  time  they  announced  their  great  news, 
"  Him  whom  with  wicked  hands  ye  crucified  and 
slew,  God  hath  raised  up,  and  hath  made  Him  Lord 
and  Christ,"  the  incidents  all  were  recent,  the  im- 
mediate scene  was  only  a  few  hundred  paces  distant, 
and  their  hearers  had  many  of  them  been  spectators 
of  the  crucifixion,  but  three  thousand  at  once  became 
the  converts  of  the  Crucified;  and  all  throughout, 
till,  on  the  road  to  Damascus,  Jesus  arrested  His 
greatest  persecutor,  and  changed  him  into  His  most 
ardent  devotee,  how  all  the  intervening  incidents 
proclaimed  a  risen  and  enthroned  Redeemer,  we  must 
not  at  present  detail  more  fully  ;  but  shall  conclude 
by  indicating  some  of  the  results  which  follow  from 
Christ's  Resurrection. 

1.  It  was  as  our  Surety  that  Jesus  died  and  was 
buried ;  and  it  was  as  our  Surety  that  Jesus  rose.  His 
resurrection  proves  that  His  atoning  work  had  served 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER. 

its  purpose,  and  that  the  great  Redemption  was  com- 
plete. The  wages  of  sin  was  death.  On  behalf  of  His 
people,  Jesus  had  tasted  death ;  and  now,  as  there 
was  nothing  more  to  pay,  the  prison  was  opened  and 
the  Surety  was  released.  "  God  raised  Him  from  the 
dead,"  and  in  thus  raising  to  life  the  Substitute  of  the 
elect,  God  openly  acknowledged  that  their  debt  was 
discharged — their  penalty  exhausted — their  expia- 
tion complete.  It  might  have  been  otherwise.  We 
speak  of  things  that  are  strong :  There  is  nothing 
stronger  than  justice.  We  speak  of  things  that  are 
heavy  :  There  is  nothing  heavier  than  guilt.  And 
had  Jesus  been  a  human  Saviour,  He  would  have  been 
crushed  by  the  responsibilities  He  assumed,  and  must 
have  perished  in  His  benevolent  undertaking.  The 
sins  of  any  one  of  us  would  have  been  a  gravestone 
too  heavy  for  Him  to  heave  off:  the  claims  of  Jeho- 
vah's justice  would  have  been  bands  of  death  too 
strong  for  even  llim  to  burst.  But  before  He 
descended  to  the  tomb  Messiah  had  finished  trans- 

-ion  and  made  an  end  of  sin.  There  was  nothing 
to  take  llim  thither,  except  the  Scripture  which  must 
be  fulfilled,    and    the   last  enemy  which  must   be 

toyed  ;  and  except  the  great  stone  and  the  pon- 
tifical seals,  there  was  nothing  to  keep  llim  there. 
Vainly  did  the  King  of  Terrors  watch  over  his  strange 
captive,  and  vainly  did  the  Grave  boast  of  its  mys- 
terious and  mighty  inmate,     lie  opened  His  eyes  and 


306  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

Death  was  abolished :  He  stood  up,  and  the  Grave 
had  lost  its  victory ;  and  yielding  to  the  touch  of 
Heaven's  herald,  the  seals  and  the  great  stone  gave 
way,  and  Jesus  was  "  declared  the  Son  of  God  with 
power  in  His  resurrection  from  the  dead."  Delivered 
for  our  offences,  He  was  raised  again  for  our  justifica- 
tion :  and  along  with  Him  rose  all  His  ransomed — 
that  glorious  Church  of  countless  members  which 
left  the  grave  of  Jesus  acquitted,  accepted,  legally 
justified,  virtually  saved.  "  Who  shall  lay  anything 
to  the  charge  of  God's  elect  ?  It  is  God  that  justi- 
fieth.  Who  is  he  that  condemneth?  It  is  Christ 
that  died,  yea,  rather,  that  is  risen  again,  who  is  even 
at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also  maketh  inter- 
cession for  us." 

2.  Christ  rose  as  a  precursor  or  earnest.  Christ  is 
risen  the  first-fruits  of  them  that  sleep.  All  shall 
rise.  "All  that  are  in  their  graves  shall  hear  the 
voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  shall  come  forth,  they 
that  have  done  good  unto  the  resurrection  of  life,  and 
they  that  have  done  evil  unto  the  resurrection  of 
damnation."  But  whilst  all  the  dead  are  the  subjects 
of  the  Mediator's  authority,  and  all  are  destined  to 
hear  His  voice,  there  is  a  special  relation  betwixt 
Himself  and  His  believing  people  which  identifies 
their  lot  with  their  risen  Redeemer.  Because  He 
lives,  they  shall  live  also.  Nay,  believing  in  Him 
they  never  die.     From  the  great  life-fountain,  the 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  307 

Mediator's  person,  their  souls  have  imbibed  immor- 
tality, and  their  union  with  Christ  secures  them  an 
eventual  share  in  Christ's  own  Eesurrection.  All 
that  are  in  their  graves  shall  hear  Christ's  voice  ;  but 
Christians  in  the  grave  are  not  dead,  but  only  sleeping : 
and  whether  in  the  grave  or  going  to  it,  they  are  not 
only  hearers  of  Christ's  voice,  but  sharers  of  Christ's 
vitality. 

Of  this  implication  of  all  His  people  in  Christ's 
Resurrection,  the  Apostle  Paul  gives  a  twofold  illus- 
tration. He  calls  the  rising  Redeemer  "the  first- 
fruits  of  them  that  sleep" — and  he  calls  Him  "a 
quickening  spirit."  The  first-fruits  were  the  handful 
of  corn  which  first  ripened  in  the  field,  or  the  first 
cluster  which  ripened  on  the  tree,  and  which  was 
not  only  often  the  richest  in  itself,  but  peculiarly 
welcome  as  announcing  that  the  rest  is  coming. 
And  so  of  that  corn  which  has  fallen  into  the  ground 
and  died,  the  handful  first  ripe  has  already  gone  home 
to  God's  garner,  and  tells  that  the  rest  will  fol- 
low ;  and  though  the  remainder  does  not  mature  with 
the  same  miraculous  rapidity,  not  a  grain  shall  be 
lost.  Time's  winter  and  the  tears  of  separation  have 
fallen  over  it  like  a  dew  upon  herbs,  and  still  it 
dwells  in  dust;  but  these  heavens  shall  open,  and 
earth's  atmosphere  shall  thrill  with  issuing  immor- 
tality, and  conscious  of  the  quickening  presence,  the 
dwellers  in  the  dust  shall  awake  and  sing, — together 


308  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

with  Christ's  dead  body  shall  they  come —together 
with  His  dead  body,  and  made  blissfully  like  to  His 
glorious  body, — and  in  that  instantaneous  maturing 
the  first-fruits  are  repeated  over  all  the  golden  field, 
and  the  harvest  of  the  earth  is  reaped.  Again,  as  in 
Adam  all  the  Adamic  die,  so  in  Christ  all  the 
Christian  live.  Those  who  have  the  blood  of  Adam 
in  their  veins  have  the  mortality  of  Adam  in  their 
systems :  those  who  have  the  spirit  of  Jesus  in  their 
souls,  bear  about  with  them  the  germ  of  a  better 
resurrection.  Each  Adam  is  a  representative ;  each 
is  a  public  person ;  each  is  a  covenant  head ;  each 
has  his  own  posterity.  In  Adam  all  die.  His  first 
sin  brought  death  on  himself  and  all  his  descendants ; 
and  though  there  was  nothing  else  to  cause  it,  such  is 
sin's  malignity,  that  Adam's  first  transgression  would 
be  sufficient  to  account  for  all  the  deaths  that  have 
ever  been.  But  "  as  through  the  offence  of  one 
many  died,  so  much  more  they  who  receive  abund- 
ance of  grace  and  of  the  gift  of  righteousness,  shall 
reign  in  life  by  one,  Jesus  Christ."  And  as  that  first 
transgression  shall  not  have  outwrought  its  full  effects 
nor  developed  all  its  malignity  till  the  last  of  our 
doomed  species  has  gasped  in  mortal  agony,  and 
wrestled  out  the  great  death-struggle — till  the  last 
grave  has  been  closed,  and  the  last  orphan  has  put 
the  weeds  of  mourning  on — so  the  riches  of  Christ's 
righteousness,  and  the  extent  of  Christ's  resurrection 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  309 

shall  not  be  demonstrated  till  every  grave  is  open, 
and  the  sea  has  given  up  its  dead;  and  pointing  to  a 
multitude  whom  no  man  can  number  out  of  every 
kindred  and  nation — sons  from  the  east  and  the  west, 
from  Africa  and  either  Indies,  from  the  snowy  Alp 
and  from  the  burning  zone,  with  every  feature  merged 
in  resemblance  to  His  own  glorious  body — the  Second 
Adam  exclaims  to  the  Father,  "  Here  am  I  and  the 
children  which  Thou  hast  given  me." 

3.  Christ  rose  a  specimen  of  what  His  risen  people 
shall  be. 

It  would  be  interesting  to  know  what  like  man 
was  in  the  primeval  paradise:  what  like  he  was 
when  still  sinless  and  unfallen.  But  for  this  we  have 
few  data;  and  with  this  we  have  not  much  to  do. 
It  is  more  important  for  us  to  know  what  like  man 
shall  be  in  his  glorified  body,  and  in  the  paradise 
restored ;  and  for  our  conjectures  here  we  have  surer 
ground  and  more  abundant  materials.  As  regards 
the  mode  of  His  existence,  an  attentive  reader  may 
perceive  a  striking  difference  between  Jesus  not  yet 
crucified,  and  the  same  Jesus  risen.  For  many  years 
He  had  been  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  and  except 
on  a  few  rare  emergencies — as  when  He  walked  on 
the  sea,  and  extricate  I  Himself  from  the  mob  at 
Nazareth — He  did  nothing  to  evince  Him  aught  else 
than  "  bone  of  our  bone,  and  flesh  of  our  flesh."  He 
hungered,  He  thirsted,  He  ate,  He  drank,  He  sought 


810  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

the  refreshment  of  sleep,  and  when  He  exchanged 
one  place  for  another,  He  footed  all  the  intermediate 
space,  and  was  sometimes  weary  with  the  journey. 
But  after  his  resurrection  there  was  a  wonderful 
change.  To  shew  disciples  that  it  was  still  a  true 
body  which  He  wore,  we  find  Him  twice  partaking 
of  ordinary  food ;  but  of  His  place  of  abode,  of  His 
lodging  or  resting  anywhere,  we  have  not  the  slight- 
est hint ;  and  all  unlike  those  previous  years,  when 
every  movement  was  minutely  known,  and  every 
day's  employments  could  be  exactly  recorded,  the 
usual  avocations  of  these  forty  days  were  utterly  un- 
known. In  what  earthly  home  He  sojourned,  no  dis- 
ciple guessed,  and  how  He  was  occupied,  none  pre- 
sumed to  ask.  Except  the  walk  to  Emmaus,  there 
were  no  more  journeys  with  the  Master  in  the  midst; 
and  though  He  was  in  Galilee  and  Jerusalem  hy 
turns,  no  one  saw  Him  traversing  the  distance  be- 
tween. In  the  garden  He  accosts  Mary  Magdalene, 
and  anon  He  intercepts  her  companions  still  hasting 
towards  the  city.  At  Emmaus,  the  two  disciples 
recognise  Him,  but  before  they  can  follow  up  their 
delightful  discovery,  He  again  has  vanished  from 
their  view  j  and  that  same  evening  the  ten  are  assem- 
bled, and  the  door  is  firmly  fastened:  there  is  no 
footfall  on  the  stair :  the  latch  is  not  lifted :  the  bolt 
does  not  fly  back,  but  Jesus  is  in  the  midst,  saying, 
"  Peace  be  unto  you."     The  truth  is,  our  earth  was 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  311 

no  longer  u  His  local  residence.  He  had  become  the 
inhabitant  of  another  region,  from  which  He  occa- 
sionally came  to  visit  His  disciples,  till  at  last  He 
took  a  visible  departure,  in  order  that  they  might 
cease  to  expect  Him  till  the  restitution  of  all  things."* 
The  body  which  had  been  sown  in  dishonour  was 
now  raised  in  glory.  It  had  been  sown  a  natural 
body,  but  was  now  raised  a  spiritual  body.  It  was 
amaranthine — immortal — a  body  which,  once  dead, 
could  die  no  more — a  materialism  which  no  longer 
shrouded  so  closely  the  indwelling  Godhead :  a  body 
which  had  already  been  within  the  veil,  and  which 
shed  around  it  the  calm  and  sanctity  imported  from 
that  holy  place— a  body  which  made  the  upper 
chamber  a  Tabor,  and  the  forty  days  a  perpetual 
Transfiguration — a  body  which  stone  walls  could  not 
exclude,  and  which  the  earth's  gravitation  could  not 
detain — a  body  which  could  easily  elude  their  obser- 
vation ;  which  was  at  once  so  identical  that  it  could 
be  infallibly  recognised  as  that  same  Jesus,  and  withal 
so  much  fairer  than  the  sons  of  men,  that  at  first  some 
of  the  five  hundred  doubted  if  it  were  really  Himself. 
Without  any  studious  reserve  on  His  side,  no  wonder 
that  there  was  now  a  felt  remoteness  on  the  side  of 
disciples ;  and  with  its  texture  so  fine  and  so  emissive 
of  the  glory  within,  when  the  Wearer  of  this  glorious 

•  For  the  fall  discussion  of  this  interesting  subject  see  Honle/s 
remarkable  "  Sermons  on  Our  Lord's  Resurrection." 


312  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

humanity  presented  Himself  on  the  Hill  of  Galilee, 
or  beside  the  Lake  of  Tiberias,  or  in  the  upper  room 
of  the  city,  or  finally  left  them  on  the  skirts  of 
Olivet,  no  wonder  that  the  impulse  was  always  the 
same,  and  that  those  who  in  other  days  were  free  to 
talk  with  the  Master,  now  felt  constrained  to  fall  at 
His  feet,  and  worship  their  God. 

Something  like  this  shall  the  risen  Christian  be. 
He  knows  not  what  he  shall  be,  but  he  knows  that 
when  Christ  appears,  he  shall  be  like  Him.  He  looks 
for  the  Saviour,  who  shall  change  his  vile  body,  that 
it  may  be  fashioned  like  unto  Christ's  glorious  body. 
And  as  he  has  borne  the  image  of  the  earthly  Adam, 
he  expects  to  bear  the  image  of  the  heavenly.  With- 
out being  able  to  go  into  every  detail,  he  has  obtained 
glimpses  enough  of  a  risen  Redeemer  during  these 
forty  days,  to  know  that  the  corporeity  he  is  hereafter 
to  wear  will  have  many  forms  and  many  exemptions 
at  present  unknown.  It  will  be  able  to  exchange 
one  place  for  another  with  vast  rapidity  and  without 
fatigue.  It  will  be  able  to  frequent  scenes  and  enter 
places  from  which  it  is  at  present  debarred.  Like 
Jesus  in  the  Upper  Room,  who  perhaps  had  long 
been  present  before  He  was  perceived,  and  who  did 
not  necessarily  withdraw  the  instant  He  ceased  to  be 
seen,  it  may  require  a  miracle  to  make  itself  pal- 
pable to  flesh  and  blood ;  but  its  ordinary  avocations 
and  its  familiar  associates  must  be  such  as  it  hath 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  313 

not  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive.  And 
like  Christ's  glorified  "body,  it  will  hunger  no  more, 
neither  thirst  any  more,  and  in  the  land  where  it 
dwells,  the  inhabitant  u  shall  no  more  say,  I  am 
sick." 

4.  Christ  rose  as  a  conqueror  to  commence  a  new 
dominion.  "  He  must  reign  till  he  hath  put  all 
enemies  under  his  feet.  The  last  enemy  that  shall 
be  destroyed  is  Death."  Nor  will  the  end  come  till 
lie  has  conquered  back  the  empire  of  the  universe  to 
the  Godhead.  "  Then  cometh  the  end,  when  he  shall 
have  delivered  up  the  kingdom  to  God,  even  the 
Father ;  when  he  shall  have  put  down  all  rule  and 
all  authority  and  power."  That  reign  is  begun. 
That  conquest  is  now  proceeding.  The  Mediator  is  on 
the  throne.  He  has  received  all  power  in  Heaven  and 
on  Earth.  His  people  are  as  safe  as  the  subjects  can 
be  of  One  whose  dominion  ruleth  over  all.  Nor  will 
this  mighty  One  put  up  His  sword  or  stay  His  career 
of  victory  till  all  the  universe  is  loyal,  or  all  that  is 
disloyal  is  disarmed  ;  till  moral  evil  has  disappeared 
from  the  sight  of  a  holy  creation,  banished  to  its  own 
place  ;  and  having  put  down  all  opposing  authority 
and  power,  Messiah  can  hand  back  to  the  Father  His 
completed  commission — as  the  Hun  and  the  Sent  of 
the  Father  doing  homage  to  absolute  l>eity,  "that 
G*d  may  be  all  in  all. 

*  1  Cor.  xv. 


314  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

A  Saviour's  resurrection  is  too  seldom  the  subject 
of  our  thoughts.  Even  those  who  are  "  often  at 
Gethsemane"  too  seldom  go  out  as  far  as  unto 
Bethany,  and  gaze  up  into  Heaven  along  the  track 
of  an  ascending  Redeemer.  Even  those  who  some- 
times look  forth  to  Christ  on  the  Cross,  too  seldom 
look  up  to  Christ  on  the  Throne.  But  if  Jesus  was 
delivered  for  our  offences,  He  was  raised  again  for  our 
justification  :  and  if  we  would  lead  an  elastic,  hopeful, 
and  improving  life,  we  must  remember  our  Saviour 
as  risen  and  reigning,  and  destined  to  come  again. 

To  one  great  sorrow,  especially,  is  Christ's  resur- 
rection the  surest  antidote.  "  O  Death,  where  is  thy 
sting?  O  Grave,  where  is  thy  victory?"  Death 
has  a  sting.  It  is  a  very  dreadful  evil.  It  is  dismal 
to  endure,  and  scarcely  less  dismal  to  anticipate.  To 
lie  down  in  pain,  perhaps  in  racking  agony :  to 
count  the  slow-creeping  minutes,  and  wish  for  evening 
dusk  or  morning  dawn,  which  does  arrive,  but  brings 
no  balm  of  sleep,  no  sense  of  betterness :  to  grow 
confused,  but  still  conscious  of  misery :  to  have 
wishes  that  cannot  be  understood,  and  words  that 
will  not  utter :  to  see  dear  ones  fading  into  the 
distance,  and  to  be  able  to  exchange  no  more  love's 
wonted  tokens,  not  even  a  twinkle  of  the  eye  nor  a 
murmur  of  the  voice  :  to  feel  the  breath  stifling  and 
the  heart-strings  breaking,  and  to  be  left  alone  in  the 
midst  of  this  cold  and  dreary  mystery  : — what  can 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  315 

be  more  awful,  unless  it  be  his  case  who  is  the 
helpless  looker-on;  who  watches  pangs  which  he 
cannot  assuage,  and  imploring  looks  which  he  cannot 
interpret;  who  plies  cordials  at  which  the  King  of 
Terrors  mocks,  and  who  importunes  science  for 
miracles  which  it  cannot  work ;  who  in  frantic  des- 
peration would  detain  the  spirit  which  has  already 
burst  its  earthly  fetters,  and,  more  frantic  still, 
refuses  to  believe  that  the  gulf  is  already  crossed, 
and  that  the  form  which  he  enclasps  is  no  longer  a 
father  or  a  mother,  but  only  senseless  clay;  who 
must  see  these  dear  familiar  features  grow  so  ghastly, 
and  then  learn  to  love  them  in  this  new  and  mournful 
phasis,  only  to  endure  another  woe  when  the  coffin- 
lid  is  closed,  and  the  funeral  pomp  sets  forth,  and 
from  the  macerating  leaves  and  plashy  turf  of  the 
churchyard  the  survivor  comes  back  to  the  forsaken 
dwelling,  and  upbraids  himself  that,  he  should  sit 
under  the  bright  lamp,  and  before  the  blazing  fire, 
while,  beneath  the  bleak  November  night,  that  dear 
form  is  left  to  silence  and  to  solitude.  Death  has  a 
sting.  There  is  often  a  pang  in  its  very  prospect. 
You  arc  well  and  happy ;  but  the  thought  crosses 
you,  *  I  must  soon  work  my  last  day's  work,  or  play 
out  my  last  holiday.  Soon  must  I  take  my  last  look 
of  summer,  and  spend  my  last  evening  with  my 
friends.  Soon  must  I  be  done  with  these  pleasant 
books,  and  put  the  marker  in  where  it  will  never 


316  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

again  be  moved.  Soon  must  I  vanish  from  these 
dear  haunts,  and  this  most  beautiful  world ;  and  soon 
must  I  go  down  to  the  house  of  silence,  and  say  to 
the  worm,  "  Thou  art  my  sister."  And  yet,  soon  as 
that  may  be,  still  sooner  may  precious  ones  be  taken, 
and  force  me  to  say,  u  I  would  not  live  always." ' 
Whether  in  the  actual  endurance  or  in  the  awful 
anticipation,  death  is  very  dreadful,  and  it  used  to 
have  a  sting  which  not  only  slew  the  victim,  but 
extinguished  the  survivor's  hope.  Thanks  be  to  God 
for  Jesus  Christ.  Thanks  that  there  is  one  tomb 
which  has  already  lost  its  tenant,  and  thanks  for  the 
news  of  how  that  happened.  Thanks  that  the  old 
penalty  is  now  exhausted  in  the  sinner's  Substitute, 
and  that  whatever  great  stone  be  placed  on  our 
sepulchre,  there  need  be  no  grave-stone  of  guilt  on 
the  immortal  soul.  Thanks,  O  Father,  for  Thy  gift 
unspeakable ;  thanks,  O  Saviour,  for  Thy  love  un- 
fathomable. Thanks  for  tasting  death  for  every 
man.  Thanks  for  Thy  glorious  resurrection  and 
beneficent  reign.  Thanks  for  Thy  gracious  promise 
to  destroy  the  last  enemy;  and  thanks,  O  Holy 
Spirit,  the  Comforter,  for  those  to  whom  Thou  hast 
given  such  union  to  Jesus  that  they  feel  as  if  they 
could  never  die — nay,  that  to  depart  and  be  with 
Christ  is  far  better.  "O  death,  where  is  thy  sting? 
O  grave,  where  is  thy  victory?  The  sting  of  death 
is  sin;   and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the  law.     But 


THE  RISEN  REDEEMER.  317 

thanks  be  to  God  who  giveth  us  the  victory,  through 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.' ' 

To  get  the  full  benefit  of  these  assurances,  the 
reader  is  earnestly  exhorted  to  keep  in  memory  his 
high  calling  and  the  Author  of  his  better  life.  "  Who 
is  he  that  condemneth  ?  It  is  Christ  that  died,  yea 
rather,  that  is  risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right 
hand  of  God,  who  also  maketh  intercession  for  us." 
Prize  and  use  for  its  proper  purposes  the  Lord's  day. 
As  sacred  but  far  more  touching  than  the  world's 
primeval  Sabbath,  let  its  chiming  minstrelsy  ever 
remind  you,  u  Christ  is  risen,"  and  seek  to  catch  the 
suggestions  of  things  not  seen  as  yet  which  it  wafts 
from  the  hills  of  Immortality.  And  sorrow  not  as 
those  who  have  no  hope  concerning  friends  who  sleep 
in  Jesus.  Considering  that  we  "believe  in  the 
Kesurection  of  the  dead,  and  the  Life  Everlasting" 
there  is  reason  to  apprehend  that  our  whole  feeling 
in  this  country  regarding  our  departed  friends  is  too 
funereal ;  and  on  behalf  of  England  we  have  some- 
times envied  the  brighter  hope — the  look  of  Easter 
morning,  which  seems  to  linger  still  in  Luther's  land. 
With  its  emblems  suggestive  of  Resurrection  and 
Heaven,  its  churchyard  is  not  a  Pagan  burial- 
ground,  but  the  place  where  believers  sleep, — a  true 
cemetery,  to  which  friendship  can  find  it  pleasant  to 
repair  and  meditate.  At  the  obsequies  of  Christian 
brethren  it  is  not  a  funeral  knell  which  strikes  slowlv 


:U8  FINAL  GLIMPSES. 

and  sternly ;  but  from  the  village  steeple  there  sheds 
a  soft  and  almost  cheerful  requiem :  and  though  there 
may  be  many  wet  eyes  in  the  processicr.,  there  are 
not  many  of  the  artificial  insignia  of  woe,  as  the 
whole  parish  convoys  the  departed  to  his  "bed  of 
peaceful  rest."  Once  in  the  Black  Forest  we  accom- 
panied to  the  "Place  of  Peace"  an  old  man's  funeral, 
and  there  still  dwells  in  our  ear  the  quaint  and  kindly 
melody  which  the  parishioners  sang  along  the  road ; 
and  we  have  sometimes  wished  that  we  could  hear 
the  like  in  our  own  land,  with  its  sombre  and  silent 
obsequies. 

Neighbour,  accept  our  parting  song ; 

The  road  is  short,  the  rest  is  long  : 

The  Lord  brought  here,  tha  Lord  takes  hence, — 

This  is  no  house  of  permanence. 

On  bread  of  mirth  and  bread  of  tears 
The  pilgrim  fed  these  chequer' d  years  ; 
Now,  landlord  world,  shut  to  the  door, 
Thy  guest  is  gone  for  evermore. 

— Gone  to  a  realm  of  sweet  repose, 
His  comrades  bless  him  as  he  goes : 
Of  toil  and  moil  the  day  was  full, 
A  good  sleep  now,— the  night  is  cooL 

Ve  village  bells,  ring,  softly  ring, 
And  in  the  blessed  Sabbath  bring, 
Which  from  this  weary  work-day  tryst 
Awaits  God's  folk  through  Jesus  Christ. 

And  open  wide,  thou  Gate  of  Peace, 

And  let  this  other  journey  cease, 

Nor  grudge  a  narrow  couch,  dear  neighbours. 

For  slumbers  won  by  life  I<  dc  labour*. 


THE   RISEN    REDEEMER.  319 

Beneath  these  sods  how  close  ye  lie ! 
But  many  a  mansion 's  in  yon  sky : 
Ev'n  now,  beneath  the  sapphire  throne, 
Is  his  prepared  through  God's  dear  Son. 

"  I  quickly  come,"  that  Saviour  cries ; 
Yea,  quickly  come,  this  churchyard  sighs  • 
Come,  Jesus,  oome,  we  wait  for  thee, — 
Thine  now  and  ever  let  us  be. 


THE    END. 


TT 


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